


Sister dearest or a nudge in the right direction

by headless_nic



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 30,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23295151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headless_nic/pseuds/headless_nic
Summary: Caroline Bingley is determined to become Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy, and in her feat to fix him as her husband she would stop at nothing. When Elizabeth Bennet stays at Netherfield and nurses her sick sister Jane, it becomes increasingly clear that Mr Darcy is falling for the lively Hertfordshire lady and her fine eyes. At last Caroline decides it is time to take action, and engaging her sister to help her, she attempts to compromise the man. But with her increasingly ruthless and selfish behaviour she soon upsets her sister, and Mrs Hurst, fed up with Caroline’s antics, does some scheming of her own, the results of which are rather unexpected. But sometimes all one needs is a nudge in the right direction and so a happily ever after is inevitable – for more than one couple.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,  
> I've just realised, after much confusion while posting this, that this is an old unedited version of this story. Anyway, I cannot track down the edited version on my computer so I hope you'll forgive me for the many MANY mistakes in this story but after I had them taken down for so long due to enrollment in KU and then forgetting all about them, I didn't want to have you wait any longer. Especially not right now, where I think all of us can do with a little light-hearted comedy.  
> Stay safe and healthy -  
> Love  
> Nic

Prologue

“Is it not nice to have one's house to oneself again?" Caroline Bingley remarked as she watched the carriage depart from Netherfield, carrying away Jane Bennet and, more importantly, her sister Elizabeth.  
No-one answered, not even Louisa, and then again her exclamation had been nothing more than a rhetorical question at any rate. Smiling sweetly she turned around to bat her eyes at Mr Darcy who, unfortunately, deep in his own thoughts, did not notice. His eyes were firmly fixed on the chaise as it drove towards Longbourn three miles down the road, about to turn into the sheltered well-used country lane and at last out of their sight.  
The attention Mr Darcy had paid the second oldest Bennet daughter had begun to irk her of late, though she had tried her utmost not to appear too concerned about the influence this self-sufficient country no-body seemed to have on her intended husband.   
If only Mr Darcy knew he was intended for her it would not be so very bad, but as yet he was perfectly ignorant of this fact. Even the few weeks under the same roof, her complying behaviour, her attentions, and machinations, had as yet been unsuccessful to secure his attentions. All this was very vexing.  
And then there was this ridiculous ball Charles meant to give! - And no doubt Jane Bennet would think it to be in her honour.   
Oh, had they never come to Hertfordshire in the first place!  
All her pursuits of the last months, nay the past two years, seemed now in danger to come to nothing. Her brother was besotted, while Mr Darcy was not – at least not with her.   
It really was quite ridiculous to think that all the elegant ladies of the le bon ton had never interested him all that much, if at all, and now Miss Elizabeth Bennet had come along with her fine eyes and impertinent behaviour and he was thoroughly enchanted.   
Ha! It was not to be borne. Something needed to be done, and quickly as well as thoroughly.

As the men went out shooting she sat down with her sister, making herself comfortable in the parlour for yet another afternoon of uninterrupted boredom.   
Another pitiable creature she thought to herself as she watched her sister take out her needlework. Caroline bit her tongue lest the thought would escape her lips.   
But truly, with that husband of hers, it was astonishing Louisa always seemed in such good spirits. Then again, her sister had always been much more like their brother than herself, calm, complying and fairly self-sufficient.   
She might have a taste for fashion and society but lately, often enough, she had watched her skip, well not literally skip but rather swiftly walk much as Miss Elizabeth always did, along the lawn and paths of Netherfield in pure enjoyment of a sunny late autumn day. She had picked up leaves to press them for whatever reason and one evening Louisa had even dared to put one of the last roses, very late ones indeed, into her hair. A natural rose! It was quite laughable really when she had access to the finest silk flowers one could possibly wish for.   
Caroline herself would never be caught dead with something as simple and unpretentious as a single white rose, freshly plucked from the bush, in her hair. She preferred feathers anyway.  
But alas, currently Louisa was her sole consolation as everybody around her seemed to lose every bit of common sense to this drab and most inelegant country. Not that her sister was that much better, but she had at least something akin to sense left in her.  
"You look relieved." Mrs Hurst addressed her at last and thus made it necessary for Caroline to wake from her reverie.  
"Are you not?" was her testy reply as she elegantly leaned herself against an embroidered silk cushion on her favourite settee closest to the fireplace.  
"Oh, only to an extent. I rather liked to have Miss Bennet here, and Miss Elizabeth was quite amusing to have around as well."  
"You found her impertinence amusing, did you not?" Caroline spat back, staring at her sister aghast.  
Louisa sighed and put down her needlework, a project that never seemed to make any progress at all even though she worked tirelessly at it.  
"Sister dearest, what troubles you so?"  
Was that not obvious?   
For a moment Caroline said nothing in reply, making up her mind, but when she began to speak her sister, with some astonishment, listened to what she had to say – or rather to propose.  
"Louisa, will you promise to help me?"  
At this Louisa Hurst sat up a bit more straight as if in some alarm as to what might follow this request.  
"If it is in my power to do so, for certain," she answered quietly after a moment's hesitation.  
"Good, listen. I intend to use this blasted ball Charles intends to give to my advantage to once and for all fix Mr Darcy. After all, I cannot have this country chit ruin my prospects just because she has fine eyes. She is nothing, a nobody with no fashion, elegance or even beauty. And her relations! With them being in trade and living in Cheapside. - Cheapside, Louisa! And then this mother of hers... - It cannot be. It must not be!"  
By now Mrs Hurst had put down her embroidery and looked at her sister with an equal share of incredulous curiosity and concern.  
"And what do you intend to do about it?"  
Caroline took a deep breath before announcing confidently: "I plan to compromise Mr Darcy."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Three days had passed since her proclamation, and to say Louisa had been astonished would have been more than a slight understatement. She had been shocked, grieved even, that her sister intended to resort to such measures. She had tried to dissuade Caroline from it, but at long last had agreed to help when she had realised that all her interferences would come to nothing. And after all, the Netherfield ball was the perfect opportunity to realise her plan, Caroline had told her haughtily, and also that she was most determined to follow her scheme. So much so that she refused to hear any reason no matter how well meant it was. This matter, she had explained further, was of too much importance for her to be intimidated by any possible failure. Not that Caroline would fail. No, she would come out victorious and by the end of the year she would be Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy, cost what it may.

As their brother and Mr Darcy were on their way to visit the ladies at Longbourn, one more reason to act quickly before the inevitable happened and Darcy dared propose to Miss Elizabeth, and Mr Hurst slept on his favourite chaise longue in the far corner of the sitting room, this was the perfect opportunity to speak of the particulars of her plan, or so Caroline seemed to think. If it had been for Louisa herself, this subject would better not ever have been addressed again, but she had little choice in the matter it appeared. It had taken Caroline some time to think everything over, but now she had every detail worked out and was quite proud of what she had come up with.  
So consequently Caroline approached her sister, once again engrossed in her silly, useless needlework, and proposed to venture outside lest Mr Hurst might wake up and overhear what was not for anybody to listen to safe for Louisa and herself.  
"I presume it is about your plan to entrap Mr Darcy?" she was asked accordingly as with some hesitation Mrs Hurst put away her work, neatly folding it before placing it in her pretty little work basket.  
"What else would it be about?" Miss Bingley smirked, raising an elegant eyebrow.  
"Admittedly I had hoped you would refrain from this step, but it seems you are determined. You are well aware that this could ruin you, are you not?"  
"Nonsense! Not the way I have planned it out, Louisa."  
Stepping outside and into the dim autumn sunlight they made their way over to the box maze of the more formal part of the extensive garden. It was just perfect for her plan, as it was neither too far nor too short a distance from the house.  
"See, all I need you to do, Louisa, is to lure Mr Darcy here claiming I have twisted my ankle while taking a breath of fresh air. A ballroom is always sticky and no-one would doubt the truth of it, for sure."  
"And what if Charles insists on helping you instead? I could hardly keep him from coming to your aid."  
"Oh, he will be busy with his dear angel, no doubt. Even though he is host he still plans to dance with her, and I am sure today he will ask her for the first set and the supper one, he said something along those lines. So during the supper set it will be. Charles will be busy dancing and Mr Darcy, fortunately not inclined to dance as he has told us repeatedly, will be all too willing to help me out of my predicament." Caroline announced triumphantly.  
Her sister, however, did not appear convinced. Sceptically she eyed Caroline before she came up with another objection: "What if Mr Hurst should offer to help?"  
At that Miss Bingley could only laugh mirthfully: "When has Mr Hurst ever been sober this late in the evening and at a ball?"  
Louisa did not reply to that, knowing this to be quite true. Still, that her sister spoke of it so unabashedly she obviously did not like.  
But Caroline, not realising she had touched such a delicate topic, carried on with blatant viciousness: "Mr Hurst is the most boring, unruly man there is, surely you cannot think he would offer such an act of chivalry of his own accord? What can you be thinking of, Louisa? No, I will be quite safe from his attentions. Your husband will sit in his corner either fast asleep or, excuse my choice of words, as pissed as a fart as always, not paying much attention to anybody, neither you nor me. The only thing of any interest for him would be the continuous supply of wine."  
As it often is, to hear the truth was more hurtful as if the words had been applied unjustly. Mrs Hurst pressed her lips together lest she should say something she might later regret. She was used to her sister's vitriolic temper, though this time Caroline had gone too far.  
It was her after all who gave her a home when she was in town. It was the very man she had just slighted who offered her hospitality, and even though he drank more than his share and could be quite a bore, so much was true, he was reliably so. What Caroline did not seem to realise was that Louisa, despite his faults, dearly loved her husband; loved him for the freedom he afforded her and even for his rare display of companionship. He was quite a different man when around people he actually liked, being witty and attentive. So, what did that say about Caroline? At any rate, George Hurst might not be a Mr Darcy, but he was her husband and no-one had the right to speak about him as her sister had just done!

It was to their surprise that they saw two horsemen approach from the distance and quickly, and as both of them travelled with considerable speed, it soon became clear that it was their brother and his friend.  
"So, Louisa, you know what to do. Do not forget, during the supper set. Wait ten minutes after I have left and then pretend to be in search of me, you do not have to come out only make sure no-one sees you indoors at that time, and then call on Mr Darcy to help me. You, of course, will have to follow so there will be a witness. I think I have not mentioned that before." Miss Bingley shortly instructed, repeating her lecture before heading towards the stables and leaving her fuming sister behind.

Normally Caroline Bingley avoided this part of the estate, as the stench of the animals was something she rather not fill up her nose with, but today she was too curious why, after less than an hour, the men had returned from what was intended to be at least a two-hour visit.  
"Darcy, are you all right?" she heard her brother enquire while Mr Darcy had already jumped off his horse, his expression unusually dark and positively angry.  
"Yes, thank you. I am fine." was the short reply as Darcy himself began to unsaddle his horse and rub it dry with firm and determined strokes using an old piece of cambric.  
"It is that strange fellow, is it not?" Charles dug deeper.  
"I care nothing about that snivelling parson whoever he might be."  
"I meant strange in the sense of unfamiliar, at least to me as you seemed to know the man."  
"It is George Wickham."  
Her brother appeared surprised: "You must be joking!"  
"I wish I were. If he is here it means trouble. He is already busy establishing himself as the most amiable man around once again, and by the time he is found out it will be too late for many a respectable young lady. He is a scoundrel, Bingley. And a professional one at that. I truly wonder why he has joined the militia. He never commits himself to anything, unless there is something in it for him. He has cultivated his charms to perfection, I have to give him that. If being charming were taught at university he would have come out top of his class."  
All this Caroline Bingley overheard with great interest, barely peeking around the corner of the house behind which she hid.  
Not that she knew the man, though she had heard Darcy mention his name once or twice, nor was she particularly interested in him considering he was the son of old Mr Darcy's steward but still, perhaps she could steer Miss Eliza Bennet in his direction and be rid of her rival once and for all. Oh, all the possibilities this opened. A charming man? Ha!

Walking back into the house once again she sought out her sister, not realising that she seemed unusually quiet after their previous conversation.  
"Louisa, we must make sure to invite the officers to the ball as well. I am not sure whether Charles intended to do so, but as there is such a surplus of ladies in this neighbourhood we will be in want of more men."  
"What are you up to now?" Mrs Hurst enquired coolly, not looking up from her work.  
"Oh, I might have an idea regarding Miss Eliza." was her vague reply as she still needed to work out the details to her most excellent plan.  
"Just be careful, Caroline, all this scheming might one day bite you in the back."  
"See, it is this that has landed you in this situation, Louisa. You were so worried to not find a better husband that you married the first man who asked you."  
"He was not the first," Louisa replied with forced calmness.  
"Oh no! How could I forget Mr Perry, the wine merchant…!?"  
"You know, Caroline, in your pursuit for Mr Darcy you start to be rather ruthless, and I begin to doubt that this is a way to attract anyone. If you had tried it with more amiability perhaps you would have fixed Mr Darcy a long time ago. You are pretty and have great elegance as well as a great dowry… - But then again, I tend to forget, this is you." getting up Mrs Hurst left the room and an irked sister behind her as she sought refuge in her own chambers.

In Louisa's mind a plan began to form as she slowly and with forced dignity ascended the stairs, and by the time she had reached her dressing room, which held a small settee just underneath the window overlooking the back of the house, it had advanced enough to make her smile again. Though a happy smile, it was not. It was a smile of ire and rancour, but alas, it was a smile.  
Sitting down on the sofa Louisa Hurst watched the busy goings-on in the stable yard and was surprised to see Mr Darcy as well as her brother sitting unceremoniously on a gate like two schoolboys, speaking animatedly with one another. No wonder they had sought refuge there where Caroline but rarely ventured and thus the chance for an open conversation was the greatest. Still, even she could not help wondering what they were talking about as her brother clearly looked concerned, while Mr Darcy seemed quite annoyed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

"So, what is it about this Mr Wickham? You have told me he has caused trouble before, but never to what extent nor of what kind." Charles Bingley addressed his friend as soon as Darcy had finished cleaning his mount and had led it back into its box. Something he rarely did himself, but which seemed to have a soothing effect on him nonetheless.  
Sighing Fitzwilliam Darcy looked at him then beckoned him towards the gate that closed off the stable yard. It would not do if he was overheard and, as the grooms were busy inside the stables, this was presumably the best place in all of Netherfield to talk about such delicate a subject.  
"I think I have told you that he was the son of our steward during my father's lifetime. He also was my father's godson and as such was assisted by my father, who destined him for the church. A valuable living had been promised to him, that Wickham declined however when it fell vacant shortly after my father's death, and for which I compensated him with a large amount of money."  
"This does not sound like much trouble to me, old friend. So I presume there is more?"  
"Yes, much more, I am afraid to say. My father had supported him at Cambridge, where I first detected his true nature – one of idleness and dissipation and lies. One evening I visited him unexpectedly and found him in bed with the dean's daughter and her friend, the poor girls drunk and hardly able to stand on their own. I will not go into any detail as to what lewd acts they were performing, but rest assured I was extremely taken aback."  
Bingley looked at him speechless while Darcy, at the remembrance, sported a slight blush.  
"It was the first of many occasions I helped him out of the mess he himself had created and that Wickham dared to blame on his situation, when in fact he was given every chance in life to prosper and bloom. Anyhow, the child has been given to a loving couple in the country." Darcy carried on, trying to keep his voice emotionless.  
"Good grief!" Bingley exclaimed, deeply shocked.  
"Well, he would not be the first man to father an illegitimate child and had he learned to be more careful and show more responsibility I would have left it at that. But she was not the only girl he has thus ruined. It was after my father's death I also found out he had left many debts behind him in Lambton, the small market town about five miles from Pemberley. Which presumably was one of the many reasons why he had no intentions to return to that part of the country. He is a gambler, a seducer, and a mercenary."  
"Mercenary?" Bingley could not help asking.  
His friend's face grew ever so much darker as he pondered how much he could entrust to his friend, but in the end only said: "Yes, mercenary. As it not only concerns me I would rather not go into detail."  
After what had already been disclosed to him this could only mean that it involved the Darcy-family itself. Charles Bingley shook his head slightly as he thought about his friend's younger sister. Could it really be...?  
"And now he is here and has joined the militia." he, at last, stated flatly.  
"Yes. He must be truly desperate to have done so. A decent day's work is not to his taste, and unless it cannot be avoided he would never take up on such a scheme." Darcy replied wryly, a sad chuckle escaping his lips.  
"And what do you intend to do?"  
"I honestly do not know. What do you propose?"  
"Me?" Charles Bingley looked astonished at this open declaration and the consequent question from a man he had till then always thought to know exactly what to do and in every situation.  
Thinking the matter over for a moment or two Bingley, at last, answered: "Taking into consideration what you have just told me I cannot help but think we should warn our friends. After all, he has the appearance of a good and decent man, and if others have failed to recognise him for what he was, including your own father of all people, a wise and observant man, I would think it necessary to make his character known."  
"There is but one downside to this, Bingley," Darcy said contemplatively.  
"And that is?"  
"It will fall on you to do so."  
Fitzwilliam Darcy knew all too well he was not in the good graces of Meryton's populace, while his friend was the more so. He had not planned to stay as long as he had already, and as his spirits at the time of their arrival had been so exceptionally low that he had not made even the slightest effort to please. Now this neglectful behaviour came to haunt him. Had he behaved with more cordiality he, Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, would not be in need of help with such a simple task as warning the inhabitants of a small market town. To warn them about the machinations of one of the greatest scoundrels in the whole of England.  
"I will speak to Jane about it," Bingley said at last.  
"Speak to her sister."  
"Which one?"  
"Miss Elizabeth," Darcy answered with some impatience. "She will listen to you and will be listened to without making any excuses for the man, or even pity him once she has heard about Wickham's perfidy."  
Bingley had to admit that this statement held some truth, Jane never saw any evil in anybody, and no matter how horrible a person had behaved, she would try and justify it somehow.  
"There is one more thing, Bingley, I would like to talk to you about." Darcy started hesitantly, his eyes cast to the ground.  
"Yes?"  
"Your apparent attachment to Miss Bennet."  
A slight blush crept over the face of the younger man.  
"If you are not careful, Bingley, you will raise hopes." Darcy carried on, "Hopes of marrying her. Are you sure you are prepared for such an alliance?"  
"I see you have spoken to Caroline."   
The bitterness and exasperation in Bingley's voice were hard to miss.  
"No, I managed to avoid that." was Darcy's dry reply at which his friend could not help but snort.  
"If you have any objections to her supposedly low connections, they do not matter to me in the slightest," Bingley stated decidedly.  
"Even though they might be objectionable, I could not care less about them. You have inherited money acquired by trade and seriously, I sell my produce on the market as well, which technically also puts me in trade, even though I keep an agent to do that kind of work for me. No, it is more about her and her mother's attitude."  
"What is wrong with Jane's attitude? She is perfectly amiable. - Oh yes, of course! She smiles too much..." Bingley replied testily, his mouth set in a firm line.  
"It is not that, my friend. She can smile as much as she likes, but I can see she has captured your heart, but are you certain you have hers?"  
At these words, his friend began to smile broadly.  
"Yes, I can feel it. You know, for a man who is guarding his own heart so carefully, I am quite surprised that you are unable to detect it in another person equally guarded." he teased.  
"What do you mean?"  
"That I am very sure Jane loves me back is what I mean, old man. And as for your own heart, I do believe my sister has every reason to be jealous, has she not?"  
"Absolutely not!" Darcy replied with vehemence, though adding in his mind: ‘Caroline Bingley has no reason to be jealous as I have never paid her any attention in the first place.'  
They sat for a while longer, now that all the serious issues had been addressed, joking around like two boys in a moment of carefree cheerfulness until going into the house could no longer be avoided.

It was no surprise to either of them to find Mr Hurst idling on the sofa, pretending to sleep so he could escape a conversation with his sister in law, a trick she, oddly enough, still had not figured out. But seriously, the man had the patience of a saint when it came to that, being not half as morose once they went outside for sports or went to one of their clubs in London.  
"Oh Charles, what have you been up to?" Caroline cooed as soon as they entered, only to wrinkle her nose as soon as they had done so. "I thought I saw you return earlier, but I must have been mistaken."  
Neither of the men replied.  
"You must be tired after such a long ride. Shall I order you some refreshment?"  
Behind her Hurst grimaced, his eyes only opened wide enough to be closed the instance Miss Bingley would turn around again.  
"And how is Miss Bennet? Is she any better?" Caroline carried on with undeterred falsehood.  
"Yes, she is perfectly well and sends her regards and thanks for your kind hospitality." her brother at last replied.  
"Oh, it was nothing!" Caroline cried out, and Darcy could not help but agree.  
Not only had neither of the Bennet sisters caused any inconvenience, nor had Caroline Bingley gone out of her way to attend to either of them. It had been Louisa Hurst who, time and time again, had proposed to sit by Miss Bennet's bedside and who had made sure she would be properly cared for. Mr Hurst, giving an inconspicuous snort, seemed to share his opinion.  
Batting her eyes and smiling widely Miss Bingley squeezed in between the two gentlemen, linking her left arm with Darcy's right and her right with her brother's left to steer them out of the salon.  
"Let us not wake up Mr Hurst. You know how grumpy he can be when disturbed. I will make sure tea is served in an instant. You must feel rather cold. The weather is growing uncomfortable, is it not? Would you like to refresh before taking tea?" she inquired, ignoring the stony glare from the man on her left and the befuddled one from her sibling.  
For a moment Darcy considered not changing into something not smelling of horse but then thought the better of it, as a few minutes to himself at this point were most welcome. The day which had begun so promising had turned foul and even though they had come up with a plan, he wondered if it would work. Miss Elizabeth already seemed charmed by the one man he would have dearly liked to forget and never meet again. This he could not even hold it against her, as, like Bingley had pointed out, wiser people had been fooled by George Wickham. She had smiled warmly at Wickham, while she had looked at Darcy with nothing more than distant civility and some curiosity.  
It had stung him somehow, though Darcy was hard pressed to even admit it to himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

The next day a cold constant rain set in trapping the whole Netherfield party at home, as unpleasant as this was. Caroline became even more persistent in her obnoxious attentions to Darcy, so much so that at last he once more sought refuge at the writing table. Not that this would deter her from constantly nagging him with her good wishes and enquiries to his sister. He did not bother with informing Miss Bingley that he was not writing to Georgiana at all, but to his cousin. Still, this was better than having to converse with her. Perhaps he should adopt some of Hurst's behaviour. It seemed quite tempting to pretend to be asleep on a sofa, had he not despised any kind of pointless idleness.

When the rain had still not ceased the following day, he and Bingley made their escape to ride over to Longbourn to call on the Miss Bennet's properly, despite the weather. And Bingley, always true to his word would speak to Miss Elizabeth.  
The rain was pouring down heavily and the roads were muddy and slippery, not exactly ideal weather for a ride cross-country. They made but slow progress and were drenched through when they finally arrived at their destination. Their appearance caused something of a stir, and while Mrs Bennet fussed over Mr Bingley, Darcy was left in relative peace. Walking down the stairs with a spring in her step Elizabeth Bennet appeared and seeing the hubbub her eyes lit up in amusement.  
This sight alone was worth the wet ride and Darcy's heart skipped a beat. Seeing him standing somewhat forlorn in the corner next to the entrance door she approached him, enquiring if she could be of any help. The look she gave him made it perfectly clear, that it was once again only out of common courtesy she cared for his comfort and nothing more. He was a guest at her family's home and as such, she would be as polite to him as she would be to any other visitor.  
"Good morning, Miss Elizabeth." he smiled, feeling slightly foolish for admiring her as much as he did.  
And yet it could not be helped, she was undoubtedly the most enchanting woman he had ever met, with her lively manners, playful disposition and her captivating eyes.  
"I – well yes, a cup of tea perhaps would be nice." he, at last, managed to say, feeling even more foolish for his lack of words.  
"And a towel?" she laughed, raising a challenging eyebrow before taking his hat and retreating to the back of the house.  
"Oh, over to the fire, Mr Bingley, you are soaked through. We cannot have you ill now, can we? Jane, Jane get a blanket, my dear. Quickly!" Mrs Bennet still fussed over his friend and her youngest daughters fluttered around like chickens, while only the eldest seemed truly concerned, her face clouded over with worry. Bingley indeed seemed to be right. Looking closely, and a bit beyond the surface, it did seem Jane Bennet cared for him deeply, and despite her relations, she would suit his friend perfectly. - ‘As Miss Elizabeth would suit you...' a soft voice in his head whispered, sounding suspiciously like that lady herself.  
"Though it would be terribly funny if he got ill and had to stay!" One of the younger girls giggled as she skipped over to open the door to the sitting room.  
"How can you say so, Kitty!" she was promptly scolded by her mother, who all but shoved Bingley in the direction of the comfortable parlour. As soon as she had done so the door was closed and Darcy was left standing in the hallway all on his own, which was just as well, he mused.  
"Where is everybody?" Miss Elizabeth had returned, handing him a towel which he gratefully took.  
Darcy pointed towards the sitting room before taking a deep breath, deciding that, as it did not appear Bingley would get the chance to do so after all, he should try his luck and speak to Miss Elizabeth himself instead.  
"Miss Bennet, could I have a word with you?"  
"But of course." her face was nothing but polite curiosity.  
"Is there perhaps a quiet place not quite as public as this?"  
Elizabeth's eyes danced in amusement, her quick mind showing as well as her wonderful sense of humour. How different she was to the falsely complying Miss Bingley and her ridiculous, unnerving schemes.  
"I am afraid that might be difficult in this household, Mr Darcy. The library is occupied by my father and my cousin, Mr Collins, the living room by my mother and sisters. The dining room, perhaps?" she offered, still holding the teacup she had also brought in her hand.  
"That would be just perfect."  
Leading the way they entered the vacant room and sat down at the empty polished table, where at last she put down his cup.  
"So, what is it you would like to speak to me about?"  
Now, how to begin? Taking a sip of his tea Fitzwilliam Darcy sighed and then began: "Miss Bennet, what I have to tell you is not pleasant, but it must be said nonetheless as it is of utmost importance. The day before yesterday I saw that you made the acquaintance of a young man who, as I have gathered, has taken a commission with the militia currently stationed in Meryton."  
"You mean Mr Wickham, I suppose? I thought you might know him. So?"  
Her expression of defiance did not escape him. He was too late! Wickham had already begun to spread rumours. The man was an idle scoundrel, but he was still a quick one.  
"Well yes, Mr Wickham indeed is the topic. Mr Wickham, you must know is the son of a most honourable man who had the care of our estate under my father. One could say he was our steward, but that would only be true to an extent. In truth, he was a trusted friend and I, being almost of the same age as the young Mr Wickham, consequently grew up with him. We played as boys, enjoyed the same standard of education, and when old Mr Wickham died my father made provisions for his son, intending him for the church with a valuable living promised to him."  
He looked up and saw he had caught her attention, her eyes never leaving his face. But the usual sparkle of good humour was gone from her gaze to be replaced by an expression he could not make out. Was it anger? Or contempt? Or plain incredulity?  
"And?" she enquired as he had stopped, wondering at how to proceed.  
"It is not easy to put it into words without making it sound vengeful," he admitted, taking another sip of the wonderfully hot tea.  
"Oh, really?" she snapped, standing, her hands flat on the surface of the wide table between them, eyes sparkling with anger. "Then let me tell you something, Mr Darcy, Mr Wickham has told me all about your behaviour towards him and I am in no mood to hear any more of it! I cannot imagine that you can justify your unjust, cruel and contemptuous treatment towards him in any way. It was despicable and dishonourable, to say the least."  
"And this is your opinion of me?" Darcy now flared up also, looking incredulous.  
"Can there be any other opinion on the matter, Sir? Is it not true that you denied him the living he was promised by your father? Out of nothing but jealousy! That you drove him away from his home, leaving him desperate and destitute?"  
His mouth fell open at the accusations laid at his door. Accusations which bore just enough truth to make them sound perfectly credible, and yet were nothing but lies.  
"You take an eager interest in that gentleman." he managed to say through gritted teeth, unable to gather his thoughts properly.  
"Who could not do so, knowing about his misfortunes? And all of them because of nothing but your jealousy and contempt." Elizabeth Bennet replied, her indignation apparent.  
"My jealousy, Miss Bennet? Pray, what jealousy are you talking about? Did he tell you I compensated him for the living, at his own request? No? What a surprise! Did he tell you about how he gambled away the whole of the three thousand Pounds that were given to him by me to pursue his studies that he had claimed he wanted to take up? As well as the one thousand Pounds my father has left him? No? - I came here to warn you about a most conniving man, Miss Elizabeth. It will not be on me if any misfortune should befall you." he had got up from his seat likewise and straightened himself to all his considerable hight before adding: "If anything should befall your family, do not dare blame it on me. Do not you dare blame it on me!"  
Walking out of the door he stopped just long enough to add: "Tell Bingley I have gone ahead."

A moment later Elizabeth Bennet stormed past him, as he stood there in the hallway once more, and back up the stairs, clearly very upset. Her handkerchief pressed to her eyes she stumbled upstairs and already his anger began to evaporate. He could hardly hold it against her that she had believed a man as convincing as George Wickham. He himself had done so more than once and had been disappointed time and time again. She had trusted the man's supposed goodness and now had to deal with the shock of having been deceived so. In a community as open and reliable as the one she was used to, she presumably had little experience with men, and women, of George Wickham's kind.

Darcy would have left immediately, if only he knew where his hat had disappeared to. Sighing he waited in the hopes a maid would happen along. It was not a maid however who appeared, but the snivelling parson he had seen in the company of the Bennet girls before. A young man with a pasty face and greasy hair, stoutly built and with an air of conceited arrogance about him that was the more prominent as he gave the overall appearance of immense stupidity.  
"Oh!" the morose man exclaimed. "How may I help you? Where is everybody anyway?"  
"Never mind."  
"William Collins at your service, Sir." he bowed deeply, so deep in fact, that Darcy would not have been surprised to see him topple over.  
"You would not know where to find my hat?" Mr Darcy asked at last, tired of lingering in the draughty entrance hall.  
"Your hat? No. But you know, my noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, always says in an ordered household everything can be found in the nick of time."  
"Lady Catherine?" Darcy asked startled. How typical of her to engage such a man!  
"De Bourgh, Sir. Yes. You may have heard of her. She is a most illustrious person you must know, the sister of the Earl..."  
"Of Matlock. Yes, I am well aware of that. So you are the new parson at Hunsford then, after Reverend Harris' death?"  
"I was not aware you were acquainted with Lady Catherine, Sir."  
"She is my aunt. And if you could please send for a maid to get me my hat, I would be very much obliged. I would like to return back home."  
This declaration brought a new onslaught of compliments and senseless remarks, but at last Fitzwilliam Darcy got his hat and was finally on his way to Netherfield.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Quietly closing the door behind herself, Elizabeth Bennet leaned against it and cried for a few more moments before reason returned and she began to evaluate what she had just heard. It was hard to grasp what had been said, and even harder to get hold of what had been implied. Could it really be that Mr Wickham could have told her the untruth? Lying about his misfortunes? If she were honest it seemed quite possible. He had been very charming in his attentions to her and she had been flattered by this. Suddenly it did not only seem possible but oddly plausible even. What man would go around bragging so about his misfortunes to people he had only just met?  
Then again, she thought, raising her chin defiantly, she knew people well and had good judgement and Mr Wickham had looked truthful and trustworthy while he spoke and had behaved so very different from Mr Darcy, who decidedly was not a pleasant man at all. He was haughty and impolite and thought himself above each and everybody of their small circle.  
But a disagreeable man did not make a bad one, while an agreeable man did not necessarily make a good one, that much she knew.  
Sitting down in front of her dressing table she stared into the mirror atop it, losing herself in deep contemplation, and starting right at the beginning thought about the first time she had met either man.  
‘Tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me', had been Mr Darcy's words. The very words he had spoken rather harshly, and which had stung her despite laughing them off. This surely was not a good start to any acquaintance. But what if he was right? She was not as beautiful as Jane, her mouth was a bit too wide, her chin too pointy and her eyebrows were asymmetrical. She was happy with her figure, even though it was far less graceful than her sister's, but her hair was stubborn at the best of times, having her struggle every single morning till she managed to make it look decent. Well, brutal honesty was decidedly less amiable than even an insincere compliment, there was no denying it.  
Mr Wickham, on the other hand, had complimented her right from the start. Now that she thought about it, she found it odd that though Jane was the more beautiful he had never paid her any attentions at all, even before he had been aware of Mr Bingley's interest. Could it be that he had singled her out because she was not as pretty as her older sister and thus would be more receptive to his flattery? From a prudential point of view it did not seem unlikely. And it had worked very well, too, if she was honest with herself.  
Propping her chin up on her entwined hands she kept on glancing into the reflecting surface, as reflection was what she needed in this instance, heart and head battling within her. In the end, she had to admit that even though she still did not like Mr Darcy very much, that if he had one fault aside from his haughtiness and pride, it was his unrestrained straightforwardness. He did not flatter, he did not indulge, but he was honest. This realisation ultimately led to the conclusion that, if that was the case, what he had said about Wickham must be the truth. George Wickham was a liar, a gambler and an idler, a man not to be trusted no matter how charming he was and how amiable she thought him to be. The thought was not a pleasant one.

How long she had sat like that she did not know, but it must have been a considerable amount of time. Elizabeth was woken from her reverie by a shrill squeal which she recognised as her mother's. Concerned, as it was so much louder and shriller than it normally was, which in itself had to say something, she hurried downstairs only to find a group of people assembled in the entrance hall of her family home once again.  
"Oh, Jane! Jane, what a happy woman you will be!" Mrs Bennet exclaimed. "So well married! Five thousand a year!"  
This could only mean one thing. - Mr Bingley had proposed.  
The man himself stood by their father's side looking embarrassed but happy, and her sister Jane was positively beaming, appearing even more like an angel than she normally did. Pushing her disturbing thoughts aside for the moment, Elizabeth Bennet rushed downstairs and joined in the general cheer.

Mr Bingley left shortly after as the rain, though not stopping, had at least ceased somewhat and he seemed quite eager to get back to Netherfield to share his good news. Though for some reason Elizabeth doubted his sisters would take it as such. Once more her thoughts turned towards Mr Darcy. Did he know about his friend's intentions? She was quite sure he did and it surprised her that he seemed to support his friend in his suit. What a vexing man! As soon as one thought to have made him out he had to turn around and show yet another side of him. Vexing, vexing man!  
"Well, Jane?" Elizabeth spoke to her sister when her family was sitting down for dinner, "Tell me everything about it."  
Jane smiled, her cornflower blue eyes lighting up.  
"Lizzy, he has proposed, can you believe it? He loves me truly and dearly he says, and that in marrying him I would make him the happiest of men ever to have walked the earth. It is like a dream, a fairy tale! I can hardly believe it myself."  
"I could pinch you, so you would know it is not a dream." Lizzy offered, her dark eyes lighting up once again as her sister's joy banished all gloomy thoughts for the moment.  
"It is not a dream, I know. And still, I wonder how I deserve so much happiness. If only there was a man like that for you, Elizabeth. A man who loves and cherishes you as much as my Mr Bingley does love and cherishes me."  
"Dearest Jane, to be loved and cherished in such a way means one deserves it. And you certainly do. I, on the other hand, am far too bold and too impertinent to be entitled to such merry prospects. No, I will have to make do with becoming an old spinster and be content looking after your ten children, pestering them about their lessons and to sit straight at."  
Jane only laughed at this declaration, while her mother, as usually was the case, did not catch the humour in her tone of voice, cried out, spoon half-way to her mouth: "How can you say such a thing, Miss Lizzy? If only you would not always insist on being so very clever in front of the men and instead be more demure, you would be very well able to catch a husband. You might not be as pretty as Jane nor as good-humoured as Lydia, but if you tried being agreeable you could no doubt find a man willing enough to take you as his wife."  
At such a speech from Mrs Bennet, the laugh tucked at the corners of her mouth and it took Elizabeth some effort not to spill soup all over herself. Casting a conspiratorial glance at her father she saw her own amusement mirrored in his eyes, though he was too engaged in a rather one-sided conversation with Mr Collins, to make a remark. Meaning Mr Collins spoke ceaselessly, while his cousin and host merely pretended to pay attention.  
When at last Mr Collins had decided to eat what he had dished up for himself, Mr Bennet, however, did begin to speak: "There is an issue that has come to my attention and that I would like to lay before you. It seems there is a young man who, a few days ago, has taken a commission in Colonel Forester's regiment."  
"Oh, you are speaking of Mr Wickham, surely!" exclaimed his youngest daughter.  
"Yes, that is the very man. Now this gentleman it seems is not to be trusted. Mr Bingley has informed me, when he has asked his permission for the hand of my eldest daughter," here his eyes darted over to Jane and a small smile spread across his face where before it had been quite serious, "that he is in the habit of gambling and leaving behind debts before he disappears. And he seems to have also ruined more than one young lady with his charming ways and courteous manners."  
At the last remark, Mr Bennet looked intently at his two youngest daughters, who in return stared at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed.  
"One should not speak badly of a fellow creature, Cousin, Lady Cath..."  
"You are right of course, Mr Collins," this remark was impatiently interrupted, "one should not speak badly of a fellow creature. But since Mr Bingley offered me proof of the man's infamous behaviour should I require it, I dare say to speak the truth can hardly be deemed as speaking badly about a person. And aside, one day you might be in my position, Cousin, and would you not also warn your daughters of any evil that could befall them?"  
"If your daughters had been brought up in the way I intend to bring up my children, under the proper guidance of a clergyman such as I, I doubt they will need such a warning," Collins replied, his mouth full of potatoes. "Lady Cathe..."  
"Yes, yes, I know! Lady Catherine de Bourgh would offer you advice and consolation and at any rate, under her watchful eyes no man would dare approach the daughters of her parson."  
It was a sign of how much Mr Bennet had been irritated by his cousin over the last couple of days, that he did not venture to be more polite. But as it was, William Collins had a knack of making himself disagreeable by simply opening his lips and saying something utterly foolish, and Elizabeth could not help thinking, that if she had the choice of conversation between Mr Collins and Mr Darcy, she would decidedly prefer to speak to the latter. At least he had a brain between his ears.  
"By the way, this afternoon and quite by chance I found out the most wonderful thing..." their visitor carried on, undeterred by the whispers around him as what their father had said slowly but surely sank in. "… - One of the gentlemen visiting us this afternoon is a nephew of my noble patroness."  
In their minds each of the Bennet family members, apart from perhaps patient Jane and pious Mary, added: ‘Lady Catherine de Bourgh...’, but no one ventured to remark on it.  
"Actually a nephew! And as he is such, he is of course cousin to Miss Anne de Bourgh, and I happen to know from Mrs. Jenkinson, who is her former governess and who still lives at Rosings as Lady Catherine's companion, that Miss de Bourgh is engaged to her cousin. So you see, he is the very man who one day will inherit Rosings through his most amiable wife."  
This day, Elizabeth thought to herself, was full of surprises indeed. Not only was Mr Wickham a scoundrel, and after her father's speech she now had to take it as the truth, but her sister was engaged and so apparently was Mr Darcy.  
"Poor Miss Bingley!" she muttered under her breath, thinking of the woman's desperate attempts in becoming Mrs Darcy. If Mr Darcy really was spoken for she would not stand a chance, though judging by the man's treatment of her she had never had one in the first place. And after all, a Miss Anne de Bourgh could hardly be any worse than a Caroline Bingley, even though her mother sounded more than just slightly formidable.

"Lizzy," Jane said softly as they lay in Elizabeth's bed to talk some more in privacy.  
"Yes?"  
"Why has Mr Darcy left so hurriedly this afternoon? Mr Bingley was quite disconcerted, you know."  
Sighing Elizabeth related the whole story to her sister, admitting at the end of it that perhaps she should have heard him out.  
"To think that he even admitted it would sound as if he intended to slight Wickham. You know, one more thing occurred to me during dinner. Mr Wickham told me the whole time that he could never speak badly of a Darcy because of his regard for the old Mr Darcy, and yet, he has done so the whole time. He spoke horribly about Mr Darcy and slightingly about his younger sister also, on more than one occasion. Can I really be this blind, Jane?"  
Smiling as serenely as always Jane answered: "We all thought he was good and amiable, Lizzy, not just you. And he has such an appearance of goodness about him that more experienced people than you or I have fallen into his trap. I would not worry about it so."  
"It is just that I wonder if I might have misjudged Mr Darcy as well."  
"Would that be of any importance, Lizzy?"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

It had been a week full of excitement. Excitement for various reasons. There were the invitations for the ball that had needed to be written and then delivered. And after that naturally, there had been the other preparations for the ball, as Caroline was determined to impress her country neighbours with real London elegance and splendour, neither of which they could possibly encounter in a place like Meryton. After all, they should know they dealt with people of more consequence than themselves, people of fashion, style, and taste.  
As another part of her preparations for the ball, Caroline Bingley had made sure that all the officers were included in the invite, and she personally paid them a visit to put much stress on the importance of the young men's attendance: ‘As there were ever so many ladies sitting down'. She had met with the elusive Mr Wickham, or Lieutenant Wickham as he was now, and there was little doubt he would do charmingly to ensnare Miss Eliza. A few Pounds in advance had already made him very complying, and with the prospect of earning double of what he had already received, she could be sure he would do his best. Oh, what fun it would be to see that little country chit lose her good graces with Mr Darcy!

With great amusement, she had recounted her encounter with George Wickham several times in the last few days, happy with the result and her own connivance.  
‘I heard there is a Mr Wickham here, who has recently joined your regiment, Colonel.' she had enquired after issuing the invitation to the officers, claiming: ‘You know he is a family friend of ours.'  
‘Now is he indeed?' Colonel Forester had smiled, standing by the window to watch his soldiers gather in the yard below his office. ‘He never said so. But then, he does not speak much about his past. I see he has just come back. Perhaps you would like to speak to him then? I am sure he will be happy to see a familiar face.'  
At that Caroline had smiled brightly and with an overly polite curtsy had left the room and walked over to the man the Colonel had, unbeknown to him, indicated. Not that there had been any need to. Lieutenant George Wickham in his red coat was a dashing figure, and to describe him merely as handsome was nothing but a blatant understatement. He was almost as tall as Darcy, and his figure was equally elegant yet somewhat daintier. He had dark, almost black hair and the bluest eyes she had ever seen on a human being. His features were perfectly even as if they had been crafted by an ancient master, his skin was almost as smooth as her own, save for a small scar on the left side of his chin, which lent him somewhat of a rakish air. And if that was not already enough, when he smiled the most charming dimple appeared on his cheek. And he smiled often, presumably knowing well about the effect it had on the ladies. Even Caroline Bingley was not completely immune to his charms. Shame he was just a nobody.  
‘Mr. Wickham?' she had approached the baffled-looking man.  
At which he had warily answered:‘Yes?'  
Of course, he was a scoundrel. No wonder he seemed constantly on his guard.  
‘I have just come to invite the regiment to my brother's ball.'  
If anything he had appeared even more baffled by this statement.  
‘I have a little appointment for you, that I am sure you cannot resist.'  
‘May I enquire with whom I have the pleasure?' the dashing officer had at last enquired. ‘As you seem to know me, but I am afraid I have not the pleasure of recalling you, Madam.'  
‘But of course, you would not recall me, Mr Wickham, as we have never met before. However, we happen to have a common acquaintance.' Caroline had smiled sweetly.  
‘Ah...'  
‘Actually two. One is Miss Elizabeth Bennet.'  
‘And the other?'  
‘Oh, never mind. It is Miss Bennet I am concerned about in this very instance. You know, she has an unwanted admirer, and I have it on good authority that she has taken a liking to you. Hence I would greatly appreciate it if you could take her under your wing, so to say. During the ball I mean. She is such a dear friend, I would even be willing to compensate you for your troubles.'  
That he did not decline this straight away was a good sign. She had no use for a scrupulous gentleman.  
‘Would you?' the lieutenant had, at last, asked, his face showing an expression of amusement and interest bordering greed.  
‘Yes, let us say four hundred Pounds? Two hundred now, and the rest once you have fulfilled your assignment.'  
‘Hm, Miss Elizabeth must be a very dear friend then.' he had smirked. ‘Be honest Madam, she is your rival.'  
‘A Miss Elizabeth Bennet could never be my rival, Mr Wickham! But if I can be honest with you, I rather have her out of the way. Will you do it?'  
‘So Darcy has lost his heart to a country chit? Interesting. Yes, Miss Bingley, which I presume is your name, I dare say we do have a deal.' he had stretched out his hand and she had taken it with a look of triumph on her features.  
The remembrance of this conversation still made her smile with malicious glee.

So Caroline's hours had been spent most efficiently, as time and time again she had thought over her plan, had spoken to her sister and had made sure none of their party thought too highly of the Bennets and their connections, all the while completely ignoring the happy look on her brother's face that always turned somewhat nettled when she made yet another attempt to belittle them. Sometimes she wondered what had happened a few days ago when Mr Darcy had so early, unexpectedly and clearly livid returned from Longbourn without his friend, while her brother had returned much later and looked all the happier. Charles could not possibly have made Miss Bennet an offer, could he? And Mr Darcy? Had he made an offer to Miss Elizabeth and failed? This disturbing thought she pushed to the back of her mind as fast and as far as she could. No, Mr Darcy would never do such a thing! On the contrary even. Nowadays he seemed to smiled at her on occasion, glancing up from his book or a letter he was reading, and yet there was always a somewhat distant expression on his face when he did look at her. Odd!  
And then there was this weird impression that he and her brother seemed to share a secret. Caroline could almost feel it. But what was the secret? Surely, if her brother had made Miss Bennet an offer he would have announced it to all the world straight away, would he not? Perhaps Mr Darcy, at last, had asked Charles for his permission to court her? One could never know but always hope. Perhaps she did not need to compromise Darcy after all. But this or the other way, he soon would be hers.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

The sun rose to a brilliant November morning, the remnants of the past days of rain glistening in the golden beams of light and the fog lifting slowly like a curtain drawn from a window. It was the perfect start to a perfect day. Tonight she, Caroline Bingley, would be engaged to the man of her desires, would have access to the highest circles of society and would have pin money enough to fill her already ample wardrobe even further, not to speak of all the jewels and finery, whether inherited or new. And at last, she would know that all her efforts had finally paid off. Her life could not be more perfect, really.  
She made her way over to her dressing room where her ball gown was already hung up to hang out the creases. It was a most elegant dress of bright green silk with a silver trimming and a floral pattern embroidered into it with sweet water pearls. It would do perfectly, Caroline thought, though it would be somewhat of a shame to tear it. But it could not be helped. If her meeting with Mr Darcy in the maze was to look like the legitimate meeting of two impassioned lovers, a tear at the bust would be just the right thing.  
Calling her maid to get dressed, she ventured downstairs for breakfast, being fashionably late as always. Well, perhaps her life could be better if the men had not already gone out to shoot once again. Really, how could they do such a thing when there was a ball in the evening? Then again this gave her yet another opportunity to speak to her sister, and to make it clear once more how important it was for her future felicity to compromise Mr Darcy tonight.  
In her elevated state of mind, it escaped her, that Louisa had been quieter of late than she usually was, not so much joining in her slights of the whole of the Bennet family and their low connections, or actually any conversation with her. It seemed as if she was constantly contemplating something. But that, too, Caroline did not notice.

Mrs Hurst paid but half attention to her sister when Caroline entered to break her fast as she was busy glancing over the menu, quickly changing the terrine of smoked halibut to a dish of dressed steamed trout and the steak pie for a venison ragout just as the cook had suggested. When she appeared satisfied with it, Louisa sent the footman to deliver it to the kitchens without asking her younger sister. On any other day, Caroline would have been vexed about such behaviour. After all, as long as her brother was unmarried and as long as she was so also, she was the one who kept their brother's house. Well, soon she would be married and then Louisa could do as she pleased, Charles would certainly not mind.

The preparations were in full swing, and throughout Netherfield, there was a hustle and bustle quite contrary to its normal comfortable tranquillity. Caroline of course, welcomed this change, as did their brother, both in apparent anticipation of the evening. Had it been for Louisa Hurst, it could have stayed as calm and serene as it had been before the preparations for the ball had begun to spread throughout the whole of the house. Furniture had been moved to make space for the dancing, and the dining room had been sat up in a way that it could house more than twice the amount of people it normally could hold, which was already an ample amount to begin with. The candles had been delivered from London early in the morning, and glancing out of the window one could see a whole cartload of instruments and music stands being delivered likewise, so the orchestra could be set up in a proper way and not as higgledy-piggledy as they had done at the assembly.  
"Did you even listen to what I have just said, Louisa?" Caroline snapped when she, at last, had realised that her sister had not paid her the slightest attention.  
"Oh yes, of course." Mrs Hurst blatantly lied, smiling as sweetly as if she had not a care in the world.  
They were shortly disturbed by the entrance of a confused looking young girl, who, with a squeal of surprise, curtsied and then ran out again. Many of the hired maids dashed around the house, quite busy already with finding their way around, and the more hastening to get their work done while getting lost in the labyrinth of corridors up and below the stairs. It was quite a show to see the poor creatures hurry around, uttering ceaseless apologies. Their own staff of course, could be relied upon and tried not only to help the hired ones around whilst themselves preparing everything for the night, but also attempted to cater for their mistresses every whim, as it was only Caroline who, with little regard for the people around her, still insisted on being attended to properly.

As Caroline Bingley rambled on once more Mrs Hurst amused herself with counting the breadcrumbs on her plate, her mind wandering to the letter she had written two days ago.  
My dear Miss Lydia, it had begun,  
I am a bit at a loss as to what I should do, and I fear you might be the only person who can help me out of my predicament. I am well aware that we have not been close, and that thus my request seems quite impertinent, but my sister and I have made a wager and I intend to win it! - She has the most lovely pearl necklace, you must know.  
You might wonder at this point why I write to you about this, of all people, but the wager is as follows: Caroline insists that you and your sister Catherine will make fools of yourselves, inexperienced as you are in London society, where the rules are less relaxed than here in the country, while I, on the other hand, am perfectly convinced that you will do no such thing. You are after all well-behaved girls with a sense of propriety and decorum. If you could just guide your sister Kitty along a bit further, I would greatly appreciate it. Not that I fear she will misbehave, but after all my sister has planned everything with such great splendour and extravagance that I would not want her to be too intimidated. You, I know, are less timid and hence are better suited to guide her. Prove my sister wrong in having your family behave with grace and elegance just as always.  
Now, what do you say? Are we to be partners in crime?  
Yours etc.  
Louisa Hurst  
She had given some thought to what she should do to have the youngest Bennets behave, and this surely was a stroke of genius. Louisa almost grinned at her own brilliance. What girl could resist such an appeal to her vanity? Certainly no Lydia Bennet.   
After all her slights and slanders, Caroline would be surprised how well behaved the Bennets would be, of this she was now quite certain.

"You know, you start to turn as morose as your husband and if you are not careful, soon you will fall asleep in the middle of the day just as he does." her sister remarked eventually and with some venom.  
"If I remember it correctly, sister dearest, you still have to catch a husband."  
"Oh, but you have promised to help me with that, have you not?" Caroline lifted her chin, smiling calmly at her oldest sibling. " By the end of the evening I will be engaged and surely Mr Darcy will feel compelled to marry me by special licence, and thus in a fortnight I will have a husband."  
"Yes, so it appears. I did promise to fix Mr Darcy once and for all." Louisa Hurst replied innocently, while her words were chosen most carefully.  
"So, what can possibly go wrong?" Caroline enquired, pouring herself some tea.  
From behind her cup of coffee, Mrs Hurst glanced at Caroline, a smile as false as that of her sister's playing on her features.  
"Yes, what can possibly go wrong?"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

It was not even two o'clock in the afternoon when Caroline Bingley retreated to prepare herself for the ball, and to her dismay, the men had still not returned from their sports. She relied on their elegance, lest the impression they would make on the neighbourhood would be any less than breathtaking, and it would not do for them either to prepare in a hurry.  
Calling for her maid in a sharp and commanding tone, Caroline ordered a hot bath for herself, and quickly. Though quickly is a rather relative term it seemed, and she had to wait for a good half hour till at last buckets of steaming hot water were delivered to her dressing room and poured into the elegant copper bathtub, all polished and gleaming in the dull sunlight that managed to creep through the thick lace curtains.  
As an afterthought, she sent one of the girls down to the stables to get her some milk, or more specifically the milk of one of the mares. It was not for nothing that the beauty tips of the ton were accessible to her, and today bathing like Cleopatra would be in order as nothing less would do. Her skin would be as soft as a peach and her hair would be as shiny as the most exquisite silk of her gown, if not more so.  
Adding a generous amount of rose oil to her bath she elegantly, as Caroline tried to do even the most profane thing with affected elegance and be it using the chamber pot, she dipped into the scalding water. Biting her lip to not cry out in surprise at feeling the immensely hot liquid, she impatiently waited for the maid to return with her request, which would also serve to cool down her bath to a more bearable temperature.   
What on earth could take her so long? It was not as it was not a most simple task, and the stables were only down the stairs, through the house, around the corner and a few more steps and one was there.  
It took the poor creature little more than ten minutes to return, but still, just above five would have been much better.

When Miss Bingley left her bath the water had turned cold, but at last she was happy, having rubbed herself down with a rough cloth first, before using the softest sponge she had at her disposal to evenly lather herself in her exquisite French soap which was so hard to come by in these days of war against Napoleon. But there was nothing like perfumed soap laced with olive oil imported from Grasse. How convenient she knew exactly where to get it, and even legally, which was something. Yes, there was no place better than ‘Trollope and Gardiner', a business now only run by the latter, when it came to obtaining rare goods. And aside, the owner Mr Gardiner was such a charming conversationalist and polite man, one could almost forget he was in trade.  
Letting herself be dried off and her hair carefully dabbed, first with linen to take the water and then with a silk cloth to make it even and shiny, she slipped into a robe sitting down to have her feet and hands cared for properly. Her maid was most adept at cutting nails and filing away calloused skin, and today this came in very handy. When after about three hours of hard work she was, at last, ready, her hair arranged in a most fashionable coiffure and her figure dressed in her under-things, very daring ones as they were as wispy as a shroud of mist, and just as see-through, adorned with the most delicate of lace imported from Plauen, it was time to put on her gown.  
Donning the dress she cast a critical glance in the mirror and was satisfied. She did look most fashionable, decidedly regal and wonderfully elegant, the bright green providing an attractive contrast to her dark eyes and hair as well as her fair, almost translucent skin, a result of avoiding the outdoors as much as she possibly could.  
Even if she tried, she could not possibly look more beautiful as she did at the moment. She was tall, something she was immensely proud of, and lean, while her bosom was ample and her décolletage this evening left little to the imagination. Sometimes showing one's assets was a sure step to matrimony, and showing them to Darcy to an, as yet, unprecedented extend would surely leave him breathless, no doubt. Who needed fine eyes when one had access to such a fine pair of ample breasts as hers?


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8

"There is a letter for you from Netherfield, Miss," Hill announced, before, to everyone's amazement, she handed the missive she was carrying to a confused looking Lydia.  
"Hill, this must be a mistake." Mrs Bennet cried out. "It must be for my dearest Jane, surely."  
"No indeed mama, it is addressed to me!" their mother was interrupted by her youngest and recipient of the epistle, thus preventing a cacophony of more surprised exclamations in their tracks.  
"Oh, what does it say?" her mother had got up and now hovered behind her, ready to snatch the letter from her daughter's hand to satisfy her own curiosity.  
Jane and Elizabeth Bennet in the meantime glanced at each other just as surprised as any other lady in the room safe for Mary, who was too engrossed in her book to pay much attention to what was going on around her.  
Lydia opened her letter and somehow managed to keep it in her own hands, reading it first with confusion displayed on her features, then indignation, till at last pride won out. Folding the note carefully without anybody else having been able to glimpse at more than the address she tucked it into her pocket.  
"It is awfully stuffy in here, is it not? What do you say about a turn in the garden, Kitty?"  
Miss Catherine Bennet stared at her, trying to discern what her sister was up to, but Lydia schooled her features into a neutral expression, only smiling slightly.  
This face of perfect serenity, however, made her second oldest sister most wary, and before Kitty had time to respond Elizabeth casually said: "Oh, I completely agree with you. I think I will join you, too, if you do not mind."  
"No, not at all," Lydia replied to that, and once more surprised her sister.

"The letter was from Mrs Hurst." Lydia began as soon as they were out of their mother's earshot. "Here it is."  
She handed it to her two eldest sisters, as Jane had joined them also.  
"It is quite nasty of Miss Bingley to think we would be so intimidated we could act as nothing but fools, is it not? But la, I intend to show her that if I put my mind to it, I can be a perfect lady, as can Kitty of course."  
Both older girls were most happy to hear this, though doubted their younger sisters would be able to stay sensible for the entirety of an evening and at a ball.  
"Dear me, we must have given them the impression of chattering geese at the Meryton Assembly it seems. At least to Miss Bingley. But we have been nothing more than merry. She really is an arrogant woman, so incredibly stuck up. La, even Mr Darcy seems a charmer in comparison, do you not agree?" Lydia chatted on. "Mrs Hurst seems nice actually. I think a great deal better of her all of a sudden. "  
‘As do I', Elizabeth thought to herself. ‘Who would have thought Louisa Hurst of all people, would manage to trick Lydia into actually wanting to behave?'  
"So, you have to give us lessons, I suppose, so we can be even more sophisticated than we already are, and give Miss Bingley a good surprise." their youngest sibling announced, giggling at her own wit and her brilliant idea.  
And so it went, that the next few days were spent most zealously in making two well-behaved ladies out of Misses Catherine and Lydia Bennet, and in avoiding Mr Collins' attentions, which with their practises was suddenly so much easier as well. It even seemed to please their cousin, oddly enough, to see them polish up their manners, once in a while mumbling about pious, well behaved young women and their decided charms.

The day of the ball arrived, and though Kitty and Lydia were nervous and excited beyond their usual means, they still managed to dress properly without trying to attempt to get away with too deep necklines or too many ribbons and flowers in their hair, and consequently looked quite pretty and less like the silly girls who could not decide whether to take the pink or the yellow ribbon and thus taking both. They looked so fine in fact, that even their father could not help but appreciate them, and his compliment made both his youngest shine with happiness and pride.  
They were slightly late, but not too late, rather late in the fashionable sense, and they had barely entered when they were already spotted by Mrs Hurst, who gave Lydia a small wink before returning to her conversation with Colonel Forester, whom she was currently greeting.  
"So, there we go," Lydia whispered. "Are you prepared, Kitty."  
"Yes."  
"Very well then, remember: do not run off, even when you see Chamberlain or Denny; avoid Wickham; do not laugh too loudly and most importantly, not more than half a glass of punch within one hour to avoid getting tipsy."  
"I know, Lydia! I am actually more concerned about mother..." Kitty discreetly glanced in the direction of Mrs Bennet.  
"I am not. I told her that it is very fashionable to speak as low as one possibly can nowadays and that there will be many very fashionable people around she surely would want to impress, and mama said she sure would."  
"Well then let us hope for the best." Elizabeth, who had stood behind them, muttered before all of them were in line to greet their hosts.  
One thing Elizabeth had to admit was, that Miss Bingley looked stunning and had her smile been an honest one, she would have greatly admired her.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Smiling Caroline descended the stairs just in time to receive their first visitors, which incidentally happened to be the Lucases. With his ramblings about St. James and his knighthood it was surely Sir William who was responsible for being this ridiculously early. But they were soon succeeded by many other country bumpkins, equally unaccustomed to the habit of the ton for being rather late than punctual. It was all a matter of entrance and of style, and one could of course not expect any of these people to know anything of either.  
As the thought crossed Caroline's mind she realised that of all people the Bennets were actually late, though she had expected them to be one of their earliest guests, and for a split moment she almost hoped they would not attend at all. Which of course was in vain. There they arrived as one of the last parties and no sooner had they done so, that her brother stepped forward to take Miss Bennet's hand in an atrociously affectionate manner.  
Glancing at her own sister with some irritation, she saw that Mrs Hurst was most cordial to Jane and even to the other members of this horrible, misbehaved family. But to her astonishment even Miss Catherine and Miss Lydia, though clearly awed by her arrangements, curtsied and nodded and smiled, all the while managing to keep their voices low and temperament at bay. How unusual! How unexpected!  
Miss Eliza came over to her, smiled charmingly, one could almost take it for a real smile, curtsied and thanked her for welcoming them with so much splendour and grace. Had it been any other lady, Caroline would have been most gratified by this compliment, but what irked her in this instance was, that Elizabeth Bennet did not seem in the slightest intimidated by her arrangements as she should have been. There was not the smallest sign of discomfort about the grandeur of the ball, her ball after all. The one ball, as unwelcome it had been at the beginning, that would make her Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy.   
Oh, how surprised they all would be when they announced their engagement later on over supper. - By which time she would have changed into another dress, of course, already carefully prepared to be changed into quickly, as the fate of the one she was wearing was sealed and Caroline all but counted the hours till she could rip it off herself.  
But before she could surprise anybody, it was her brother who did so when, in opening the dance, he announced his own engagement to Jane Bennet. This hussy! Caroline knew it! This nobody had reeled her brother in and was now to marry most advantageously. This was not to be born!  
Yet for the moment her mind was too occupied with her own marital felicity to separate the two of them, and to do so would have to be postponed to another day, some time in the near future. There were, after all, a few weeks time, as the banns needed to be read and the preparations to be made. So hurry she needed not. She smiled sweetly, though it did not reach her eyes, which instead glistened in malicious self-importance and arrogance. Oh, if only they knew!

At least Mr Wickham was true to his word and quickly engaged Miss Elizabeth in a conversation and oh indeed, he was a very alluring man. She almost wished one would pay her as much attention and smile at her so charmingly. But as the hostess of a ball, she was left to stand by and watch, as did her sister.  
"Are you still determined to go through with your plan?" Louisa whispered into her ear, flapping her fan.  
"What a question to ask! Now even more so than before." Caroline hissed back, seeing Mr Hurst turn around and walk towards the table with the punch. So, no surprise from that quarter.  
The music began playing and the dancing couples assembled. Why on earth was Wickham not dancing with Miss Eliza? Instead, she stood up with a clumsy looking man wearing a most pompous demeanour and greasy, mouse-coloured hair. If that was her choice of partner it certainly did not speak for the chit's taste. And how he danced! She counted the number of times he stepped on his partner's toes, but was quickly interrupted by Lieutenant Wickham and lost count after the eighth time.  
"I fear, Miss Bingley, I encounter difficulties." he bowed, looking as if he were merely exchanging pleasantries. But she could not help noticing that his eyes ever so often darted towards her chest in apparent appreciation.  
"Whatever do you mean?" she wondered, irritation rising already.  
"If I could put a finger on it I could act accordingly, but it seems the Bennet ladies have turned shy all of a sudden."  
Caroline Bingley turned to look for the other members of the family and was astonished to find they behaved with perfect amiability, neither too boisterous nor morose. This was unexpected. Having seen them at the ball in Meryton and the various other parties they had attended together, she had had no doubt they would misbehave, would shriek and laugh aloud and flirt wildly - but indeed they did not.  
Kitty and Lydia were dancing with some officers for sure, but they acted most serenely and only once in a while giggled, and Mrs Bennet spoke to Mrs Long and Lady Lucas but kept her voice suspiciously low. Miss Mary Bennet sat demurely with one of the younger Lucases, once in a while remarking on the dance it seemed, as on occasion they would point in the direction of the set. This was not promising. Not promising at all! And anyhow, where was Mr Darcy?  
"Wickham, a word with you if you please!" a deep voice suddenly spoke up.  
Well, at least that answered for Mr Darcy's whereabouts.  
The young and handsome officer did look wary at being addressed thus, but as there was little choice other than to cause trouble, he complied. Walking outside, both men spoke animatedly and after a conversation of a mere five minutes, the red coat left without further ado. None of this bode well for her scheme, but Caroline Bingley again chose to ignore it. There was no use crying over spilled milk, was there?  
She had hoped that then Mr Darcy would stand a little by her side as it was beginning to be fairly boring, but no such luck. The first set was over and she could see Miss Elizabeth stand aside with her friend Miss Lucas, laughing and talking animatedly. To Miss Bingley's great mortification, it was them Darcy approached, and she had to contain herself not to cry out in exasperation when he actually asked the chit to dance with him.  
Why oh why did men never know what was good for them!?


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10

Seeing Caroline irked was kind of satisfying. Other than her sister in her conceited self-importance, Louisa Hurst played her part of secondary hostess with great civility and grace, speaking to the various people in attendance, laughing with them, offering refreshments and making sure the musicians were well catered for. And even Mr Hurst was not so dull as not to speak a word with their guests once in a while. But this Miss Bingley did not notice, as her brother in law had managed to escape to a room where the gentlemen of the party could smoke and drink in peace, undisturbed by any female. A place where he could be himself, much to the astonishment of many who only knew him as being boring and morose.  
As such, Mrs Hurst was most pleased to have overheard Mr Darcy asking Elizabeth for two dances, and as the only ones available were the upcoming one and the supper set, this was most convenient for her and her own plans to cross the intrigue of her sister. It was quite despiteous to be sure, but it could not be helped. Her sister needed a set down and a thorough one at that, and with her attitude, there was little chance for her to find real happiness anyway. Mr Darcy, on the other hand, deserved better than to be trapped in a marriage he had never desired in the first place. He was a good man after all, if not the most alluring one.  
Sometimes Louisa wondered, how the sweet little girl from days past, with her large dark eyes and soft curls, could have turned so vile. Mrs Hurst knew not what had gone so horribly wrong as to turn little Caroline Bingley into this ruthless, machinating woman she now was, but one part of it might have come from the over-indulgence of her being the youngest child. She had been spoiled rotten, and it seemed in her case this phrase could be used in the literal sense. Not only her parents had given in to her every whim, but also her siblings, as Charles and herself had doted on her. It clearly had done nothing good for Caroline to be the centre of attention to such an extent. Everything she received was taken for granted, everything she wanted had to be delivered promptly no matter the cost or the inconvenience. Only this afternoon she had sent one of her maids out and into the stables to get a mare's milk for her, something that could not be supplied as there were no mares in the stables in the first place. Crying the young girl had come back into the kitchen, just as Mrs Hurst had checked on the progress of the cooking and to help herself to a cup of tea, as she knew the servants were busy enough already to take much care of her. Once she had found out what the trouble was, Louisa had swiftly taken a pail of cows milk and had handed it to the startled girl, who had quickly dried her tears and with a grateful curtsy had taken off and up to her mistress's room.  
Rounding a corner Louisa met with the two youngest Bennet girls and enquired in a friendly tone of voice: “Are you enjoying yourselves?”  
After all, they soon would be family. There was no use in being disagreeable.  
"Oh, mightily so!" exclaimed the younger with a broad and conspiratorial smile. "We were just looking for the refreshment table. It is mightily hot, is it not?"  
"Warm it certainly is, but you have been dancing so I dare say you feel the heat even more so than I."  
"Oh, for sure." Lydia Bennet laughed lightly, but otherwise kept her voice down and her manners, if not impeccable, were still more than acceptable for such an event as a ball.  
The letter she had written to the girl seemed to have made an impact. All the better! Louisa was quite impressed by the pair of them, only wondering how they had managed to get their mother to behave likewise. But this presumably would stay their secret. Anyhow, if they carried on like this she could well see them visiting her in London for a few weeks during the Season. If one looked closer they were such dear girls, and certainly quite charming in their youthful boisterousness.

Mrs Hurst was so busy with conversing with their guests that the supper set arrived surprisingly quickly. Walking swiftly past her and casting her a conspiratorial glance, Caroline walked through the opened doors and towards the maze, where in the darkness she quickly disappeared, unaware that Mr Darcy at this very moment was happily dancing with her rival.  
Only now it occurred to Louisa, that what she was about to do, was not exactly fair on the poor fellow likewise involved, and she would have made use of the dubious Lieutenant Wickham had he not already left. For him, she had little enough concern, blackguard that he was. But at any rate, one of the officers would do perfectly. They could always use a wife and surely would know how to handle one as difficult and little complying as her sister. Seeing them live so comfortably in their quarters she supposed they could do with a bit of battle experience.  
But for now it was time to get her act together and pretend to look for Caroline, and so, with an expression of mock concern, Louisa Hurst strolled through the many rooms and at last outside, wise enough to take a lantern. She had no intention to stumble around in the darkness and soil her new gown.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 11

In the meantime, Caroline found to her dismay that, with all her calculations and planning, she had underestimated how dark the maze would be at this time of night, and the well lit Netherfield House kept her eyes from getting used to the gloom which enveloped her. She could hardly see her hand in front of her eyes, and it was quite difficult to find the little bench onto which she intended to plant herself, feigning injury. It was also much colder than she had expected, despite the shrug she had been clever enough to take with her as an afterthought. But as it was a very thin one made from silk and lace, it did nothing to keep her from shivering. Yet there was no way in the world she would back out of this intrigue now. She was too close to success to even give it a second thought.  
Walking slowly and placing each step carefully lest she should sprain an ankle for real, Miss Bingley edged forward and at last her shins made somewhat painful contact with the pretty little stone bench in the maze's middle. With a sigh of relief she plunked down on it, for once in her life ungraciously, but who was there to see anyway?  
So far, so good. Now she only needed to prepare herself for Mr Darcy's arrival. She needed to look thoroughly kissed and compromised, so much so that it would not matter that the man who was supposed to have done that to her, looked impeccably dressed and all buttoned up.  
She started with dishevelling her hair, going through it with her hands in a way she imagined a man would in pulling her closer for a passionate kiss. Pinching her cheeks to make them look flushed was her second step towards becoming Mrs Darcy before she bit her lips quite painfully till she almost thought she could taste her own blood.  
The next step was tearing the bodice of her dress. This again took more of an effort than she had anticipated, but where there is a will there certainly is a way, and at last, the silk gave in, ripping even further down than she had intended. However, this was not the time to think of false modesty. Pulling her assets out of her stays and hitching up her skirt was all it needed to finish her  
preparations.

After little more than ten minutes it was getting extremely frosty, as the cool air of the November night touched her where soon she hoped she would feel her husband, and Caroline Bingley prayed she would not need to wait much longer to catch said husband. In her fraught state of mind, however, time passed but slowly, till at last she heard her sister cry out urgently and a man's voice answer soothingly in return, his voice kept low and indistinguishable. Not that it could be any other man than Fitzwilliam, as to her soon Fitzwilliam he would be.  
At the thought she could not help smiling and pinching her cheeks again, she leaned back expectantly. The stumbling footsteps and the faint glow of a lantern, surely the one her sister was supposed to carry as she ‘discovered' them, bore testimony that her time was near. Mere minutes and she had trapped Mr Darcy, the most eligible man around.  
He came ever so much closer, while Louisa stayed somewhat behind, and just as she had hoped he stumbled right into her.  
"Oh?!" a faintly familiar voice cried out in surprise, as the man tried to stabilise himself, hands on her exposed breasts, face so close that had she wanted to kiss him she could have easily done so. But Caroline Bingley did not want to kiss this man.  
"Caroline!" she heard her sister exclaim in shock, a shock that was shared by the two other parties, and for real.  
And if this was not bad enough, other voices chimed up as a man cried out with undisguised glee: "Well, that is what I call a sprained ankle!"  
It was none other than Lieutenant Wickham, just when he was needed the least.  
Why had he stayed behind anyway? - Oh, of course, he had wanted his pay even though he had not delivered, Caroline thought bitterly.  
But at his remark, yet another man began to laugh heartily having just rounded the corner, and hardly able to utter a word her brother in law snorted out: "Who would have thought that these two of all people are so intimately acquainted? Dear, dear! Caroline, you have caught yourself a very handsome husband. Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would not have believed it. Would you have, Louisa? If I may say so, he certainly is a catch."  
There the haughty Caroline sat, skirts hitched up to her knees, hair a mess, dress torn and exposing herself in a most inappropriate manner, while the man, who in his befuddlement still held her breasts, was not Mr Darcy at all. And not knowing where her plan had gone so miserably wrong, all she could do was stare at the group in mortification wanting nothing but to scream at the top of her lungs, had it not been for the fear of drawing even more unwanted attention.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 12

"It is not what it seems..." Mr Collins stammered and, at last, let go of the chest of the woman before him. "I stumbled and fell."  
Hurst snickered, while Wickham remarked chuckling: "That is also my usual excuse. I can tell you now, that it will not work." And muttering under his breath he added: "Not with stuck up Darcy around anyway."  
"But what are we supposed to do?" the bewildered parson carried on and then as if an even more important thought had struck him he cried out: "Good grief, what will Lady Catherine say?!"  
This was too much for Caroline. Sitting up straight and covering her exposed bosom with her shawl she glared at the group before her and all but shrieked: "You think of Lady Catherine, whoever she is, and what about me? I had such prospects waiting for me and you have ruined it all!"  
The rest of her rant was indistinguishable, as her voice went up so high she could have burst a window or even a whole row of them.  
"Ruined? But I have done nothing..."  
"There will be no way out of this. With how you were discovered, you will have to marry Miss Bingley it seems." George Hurst shrugged his broad shoulders, a glint in his eyes. "The way you were found and with how you appeared, there can be no doubt about it. I certainly saw more of you than I ever wished to, sister. Much more. Not that it was such a very bad sight."  
"Louisa, please, you must tell them it is a ruse." Caroline began to plead with her sister, who had been suspiciously quiet. "Can you not see that I will be trapped in a marriage I do not want? Me, a parson's wife? It must not be!"  
With a deep sigh, Louisa calmly retorted: "You would not have hesitated to trap Mr Darcy in a marriage he did not want, all for your own benefit, Caroline."  
"Trap?" Collins piped up, astonishingly quick on the uptake for once in his life. "You set this up as a trap?"  
"Yes." Mrs Hurst replied decidedly. "This was indeed a trap."  
"This is just brilliant! Most entertaining, too, I have to say." Wickham laughed. "But Miss Bingley, it seems your sister has done you in. You might think you are a good schemer, but it seems you need a lot more practise."  
"You set me up!" it dawned on Caroline Bingley, staring at Louisa. "You set me up, you… -you whore!"  
Mrs Hurst's expression, which before had shown some compassion, turned to stone.  
"You dare call me a whore? Look at yourself!" she spat, the compassion she had felt for a brief moment fading quickly, being replaced by nothing but anger. Her younger sister began to cry at this, looking thoroughly crestfallen, realising she would have to reap what she had sowed.

Caroline Bingley had not cried since she was eight years old, or at least not when it had not served her purpose. Till now it had worked perfectly, but suddenly her sister saw the lack of tears, and it became clear that all those long years she had been played mercilessly by the one person she had put all her trust in. All their mean gossiping and heartless behaviour suddenly made Louisa feel very ashamed. How could she criticise and laugh at someone when so much was wrong with their own behaviour? Turning around she met her husband's gaze.  
"Come, Mr Collins, let the women have a heart to heart." Hurst offered on sensing the tension, literally pulling Collins with him by the arm while his other hand pushed Wickham forward and towards the exit.  
"But what am I to do…?" Mr Collins stuttered.  
"Oh, this is nothing a good glass of brandy cannot solve if drunken at least eight times a day. Believe me, I know what I am talking about. At least there is one good thing about all this, my sister in law will not return to my house. You cannot imagine how grateful I am to you, Mr Collins, and I am hardly ever grateful."  
"But…?"  
"If you stuff your ears with cotton she is not so wholly bad to have around either. She is not unattractive after all. It is more her personality that is lacking and this insistent voice of hers. As a parson I would have thought you take an eager interest in charitable work?"  
"I do, but..."  
"Then I congratulate you on your new project, Mr Collins. People will be impressed for sure, for what you take upon yourself. Be a good example, that is what a parson should be."  
Collins' reply was uttered too low than for it to be heard.

"How could you do this to me?" Caroline whispered accusingly, wiping away a non-existent tear while at the same time glaring at her sister. Then, stomping her foot angrily, she pushed past the equally livid looking woman without waiting for an answer.  
Sighing again, Louisa Hurst slowly walked back towards the house. How could she feel so horrible when her sister had no scruples at all and still did not see how wrong she had behaved? And how could she be so angry at the same time? Sure, Mr Collins was perhaps the least suitable man she possibly could have chosen, but he had overheard her speaking to Lieutenant Saunderson, a good-looking young officer with decent prospects she had intended to be her sister's rescuer. Just then the soldier had been addressed by his colonel, requesting one thing or another of him and Mr Collins, with his inflated self-importance, had ‘needed' to step in.  
‘I, in my position as a clergyman, will be the properest person to come to aid such an unfortunate young woman as your sister, of course. Lady Catherine herself always says that kindness and charity are our greatest duties to our fellow creatures. So how could I not be of assistance after having, quite accidentally I have to say, overheard your troubles?’ he had said and with his head held pompously high, had walked outside. It also might have something to do, Louisa thought, with him having just been teased by his cousin, Mr Bennet, who took delight in pointing out the man's bigotry. No wonder he needed to prove himself truly charitable in this instance. But it was really most unlucky.

Mrs Hurst needed another couple of minutes to compose herself. In this rather odd mood, she could not face anybody without breaking out either in tears, or into hysterical laughter.  
Was she as horrible a person as Caroline after all? She should have just said ‘No!’ when Caroline had first introduced her scheme. But when her little sister had asked something of her, she had never been able to say this short negative, and certainly not decisively. This had been supposed to be her liberation from the foul influence of her youngest sibling, yet it did not feel like it at all.  
A quarter of an hour later, with a mock smile plastered on her face, Louisa marched into the deserted ballroom and over to the dining room where cheer and laughter filled the air. She had a part to play after all, and the show had to go on.  
Caroline was nowhere to be seen. Not surprising, considering the circumstances. It was also not much of a surprise that Wickham and Collins were not present, as the former had been warned of the grounds several hours ago already and even Mr Collins seemed to have realised that he had been thrown into a barrel of icy cold water and that avoiding the gossip as long as possible was preferable to explaining what he himself could not yet fully understand.  
Sitting down next to her brother Mrs Hurst helped herself to a bit of soup, but did nothing really but stir around in it, till at last Bingley took notice.  
"What is it, Louisa?" he inquired, looking concerned.  
"Nothing, Charles."  
"Is it Caroline?"  
"Hm." she huffed and brought a spoon full of soup to her mouth, though not tasting any of it as her mind was too occupied with other thoughts as her eyes darted around the room.  
It was with some concern she realised that Mr Darcy was nowhere to be seen either. Surely, Caroline would not make another attempt at compromising him, would she?  
It would have been a relief to be able to answer that she would not, but in her desperation, Louisa could not put it past her sister at all.  
Oh, had she never agreed to help Caroline in this! And had she never made the resolution to follow her own plans and instead just warned Mr Darcy of the danger.  
Nothing good could ever come from intrigue, she knew as much, and yet her anger had blinded her. Now it was too late.  
"Where is Caroline anyway?" her brother carried on. "As the hostess, she should be here."  
"Yes, she should. Perhaps she has gotten one of her headaches." replied his sister evasively.  
If only she knew where her sister was. She should be in her room. But what if not? When after twenty minutes the master of Pemberley had still not returned either, Louisa grew concerned and panic arose. Glad that at her brother's request for some music, Miss Mary Bennet had taken the seat at the pianoforte without further ado, Louisa slipped from the dining room again to search the house and look for Caroline. Better be safe than sorry.  
For once in her life, she envied her husband for his stoicism. Mr Hurst sat calmly at the table, clearly enjoying his meal as he sat there eating in silence, a self-satisfied smirk on his face and, at any rate, the suspicious twinkle of amusement in his eyes.  
What on earth was going on? Had she lost her mind? Had he?


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 13

"Ah Miss Elizabeth, I have been looking for you." George Hurst smiled, descending the stairs and puzzling the young woman before him.  
"For me?" she asked him in astonishment, "Why?"  
"Unfortunately your sister has sprained her ankle and is now resting upstairs. She has been asking for you."  
At this information, Elizabeth Bennet looked at him in alarm.  
"Which one?" she, at last, enquired, as she recalled that she had just seen Jane and Lydia dance, though she could not account for either Mary or Kitty.  
"I have to admit I am not quite sure. I never seem able to remember the names of your younger sisters." the man admitted, and for a moment Elizabeth thought to see a sneaky grin spread over his face. But before she could be certain of it, the expression had changed to a serious one again and at any rate, he had no reason to lie to her, had he?  
Following him, Mr Hurst led her to the one bedroom Jane had occupied during her illness. The room was dark, but she thought she could discern a figure on the bed, curled up and blankets covering the whole of her form.  
"Kitty?" Elizabeth softly inquired, stepping towards the bed, while Hurst softly closed the door behind her, leaving her to tend to her sister.  
"Kitty?" Elizabeth repeated, for she was almost sure it must be Catherine, as it was highly unlikely that Mary would have sprained an ankle sitting safely on a chair in one of the corners.  
When still no answer came she grew ever more concerned, and stepping over to the bed she pulled aside the blanket to reveal a rolled up bundle of bedclothes.  
"What is this?" she cried out, staring incredulously at the sheets, pillows, and blankets before her.  
"What on earth does this man mean by this? Is this supposed to be a joke?"  
Fuming Elizabeth attempted to open the door, only to find it firmly locked.  
Many things went on in her mind at that moment, but none of the thoughts could provide her with a reasonable explanation as to why Mr. Hurst had locked her in here. For an instant, she thought about calling for help but thought the better of it. There was no-one around here anyway and downstairs the music was playing again. She would wear herself out without anybody being able to hear her. Sighing she sat down on the bed, leaning back against the pillows. It was just as well to rest a bit, calm down and take a more rational approach, instead of crying herself hoarse.

"Darcy, thank God you are here, I have been looking for you. Come quickly!" George Hurst panted, looking decidedly out of breath as he hurried down the stairs.  
"What is it, Hurst?" a bewildered Fitzwilliam Darcy asked.  
Hurst, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief grimaced.  
"This fellow you have asked to leave earlier tonight – what was his name? Wilson? Willis? Witham?"  
"Wickham!"  
"Ah yes, that one. Well, I have just come across him in the gardens. Actually, I almost stepped on him as he was lying there in the driveway, completely drunk and almost unconscious. But he mumbled something, which I think might be better not to repeat here where someone might overhear. Highly indecent, I tell you. Made even me blush. Not that I believe in any of it."  
Despite his irritation, Darcy chuckled at this. George Hurst was not a man unaccustomed to profanity, of so much he was certain, and for him to blush would have been something.  
"Anyway, I have taken the liberty of asking two footmen to bring him upstairs and there he is lying in a bed now." Hurst carried on, pointing up the stairs.  
"Yes, the man has a knack for being a pain in the backside." Darcy sighed.   
Was he never going to be rid of this scoundrel?  
Turning around he made to leave but was held back by his companion: "I know there is no love lost between the two of you, but I think you might want to have a look at him, and if necessary slap some sense into him. You would not want to have him repeat any of what he has just said, believe me."  
Frowning Darcy ascended the stairs. Dare the man to say something about his intended elopement with his little sister! As he was certain that this must be what Hurst had been referring to. Thank goodness at least Hurst had had the sense of not mentioning the subject in the middle of a fairly busy hallway.  
"There it is."  
His host's brother in law pointed out the door to him, and boldly Darcy flung it open to step inside.  
He had not crossed the threshold when he was pushed further in, the door slammed shut behind him and the key was turned in the lock.  
"Hurst? Hurst! What is the meaning of this?" Darcy cried out.  
"Oh never mind. It is all in your best interest, believe me." the man on the other side of the door replied, rubbing his hands with glee.  
"But…?"  
"Mr Darcy!"  
"Miss Bennet?”


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 14

"This is truly unbelievable!" Elizabeth Bennet cried out, her hand on the doorknob which she had just unsuccessfully tried to turn.  
But there was no denying it, the door was as locked as it had been before. With a frown, she glanced about the dark room and at the bed where she had been told her sister would by lying nursing her injured ankle. Had she been puzzled to find herself locked in the room before, now with Mr Darcy here she really did not know what was going on anymore.  
"Oh, I should have known this to be a trick!" Elizabeth stormed on. "Had Kitty really sprained her ankle I would have heard about it, I am sure. She has never been able to deal with pain without starting to cry and wail. Then again, we have been dancing for half an hour and I might not have heard her over the music. I never saw her after the supper set started. So, it seems I am trapped here with you."  
The man she addressed looked equally agitated. Not that he disliked being in the same room with her, quite to the contrary. But if they were found like this, locked in a bedroom together, they surely would be forced to marry. Not that he disliked the thought of that either.  
"Well, I was told Wickham would be lying up here to sober up. I have to admit I believed Hurst unconditionally. It is just like the blackguard to linger behind and empty the liquor cabinet and then pass out outside so drunk all he talks is incoherent nonsense. Hurst said he almost stepped on him. ‘Not that it would have mattered much, but I was concerned someone might stumble and fall. And let us be honest, it is always quite a chore to get a man out of the springing of one's carriage, an officer in particular as they are meant to be a hardy lot.'" Darcy imitated Hurst quite well.  
"I would not have thought him to be so humorous." Elizabeth chuckled despite herself and her bright eyes sparkled in the dim light of the moon outside.  
"You would be surprised, Miss Bennet, he can be very good company if he likes the people well enough," Darcy replied with a smile, tempted to pull her close, his whole being longing to be ever so much closer to her.   
How had he not realised he was a lost man already?  
"It seems to be the general habit with men, Mr Darcy," Elizabeth replied thoughtfully.  
"How so?" the master of Pemberley asked slightly bewildered.  
"Well, I was once told, that you are good company around people you know well and like, and my father is much the same. Now you tell me Mr Hurst is also pleasant in the right company. When I stayed here he seemed to do nothing but eat, sleep and drink. Oh, and play cards of course."  
"You should see his imitation of the Prince Regent! No, he is rarely asleep when he appears to be so. He normally just does not want to join in the conversation, and with some of our party pretending to have dozed off is the wisest path to choose. I have to say I wonder what he meant by his remark at this being in our best interest. It can hardly be in our interest to be forced into marriage."  
"No. As I have gathered your family certainly has other expectations for you, while mine presumably could not be more thrilled." a rueful grin crossed her features.  
"And you?" Mr Darcy enquired, looking at his companion with curious intensity. "Would you be thrilled?"  
Elizabeth Bennet was rarely startled by a simple question, but at this, she did not know how to reply and blushed rather becomingly. She certainly did not dislike him anymore. Their conversations had always been rather pleasant, though impertinent. - Well, if one ignored his remark about her only being tolerable and her own behaviour last week when he had tried to warn her about Wickham. He did not seem to hold it against her, however, and there were no two ways about it, she had liked to dance with him above all her other partners tonight. The way they had moved together had been much d'accord, so much so that Sir William had to interrupt them and congratulated them on it.  
"I have heard you are engaged to your cousin, Mr Darcy. Does Miss Bingley know this?" she said instead when she had been unable to voice what was on her mind, bewildered that her perception of him had indeed altered greatly within the last few days.  
Rolling his eyes Darcy chuckled before answering: "You have been misinformed, Miss Bennet. I am not engaged to my cousin Anne, as I presume you have had this information form your cousin Mr Collins, who seems to be my aunt's current charity project. But admittedly I would not mind Miss Bingley believe I were."  
Another wry smile was all the ladies reply.  
"But of course I should not have said so," he added. "It was not very gentlemanly."  
"No, but it was honest, was it not?"  
Nodding he walked over to the window which led out onto the lawn to the side of Netherfield, the side where this evening, not a soul would venture as the ballroom was on the other one of the impressive house. With some concern, it struck him that the upper floor of this wing was currently, unoccupied and wondered when at last someone would appear to set them free.  
"As honest as your first assessment about my appearance." she smilingly stated, an eyebrow arched elegantly.  
"Excuse me? I have not the pleasure of understanding you." Darcy looked honestly puzzled.  
"When you stated I was just about tolerable. - No, do not look alarmed, I am merely teasing you." Elizabeth laughed. "After my misjudgement of Mr Wickham, I have to confess, I have come to realise that I have greatly misjudged you also. Can you forgive me?"  
"There is nothing to forgive, Miss Elizabeth. And even if there were, you have been forgiven with all my heart already. As a matter of fact, I cannot find it within me to be angry with you for any length of time." here he smiled warmly before continuing with returned bewilderment: "But I have always considered you more than just tolerable. I do faintly remember making this remark to Bingley, but it was not about you. I would have gladly danced with you, but did not realise at the time you also are sister to Miss Bennet. It was your younger sister sitting next to you I referred to, while I was actually quite sorry for not being introduced to you."  
At this statement, Elizabeth was nothing but surprised. But true, when Mr Bingley had been introduced to them it had been Mary standing next to Jane, not her. She had stood aside and had only been introduced to Bingley later. Now, it indeed did seem as if perhaps she was too quick minded and consequently judged to rashly. The night progressed and the more they spoke, the closer they got.

The sun was about to rise when Darcy woke up, his arm wrapped around Miss Elizabeth Bennet's sleeping form. Propping his head onto his elbow he could not help admiring her. It would be something to wake up like this every morning, though preferably less attired. He had taken off his coat but had kept on the rest of his clothes, while Miss Bennet was still dressed in her plain but most becoming ball gown, which had only slipped up high enough to let him see her stockinged calves.  
With a jolt he sat up, feeling his body respond to so much loveliness before him.  
Netherfield House lay quiet, not a soul stirred, till suddenly a most urgent knock sounded throughout the house. Something must be wrong! Good Lord, but what? As his eyes fell onto the slumbering form of the woman next to him he knew what it was. She was missing and an alarm had been raised. The commotion quickly woke the whole of the house and within moments shouts and rapid footsteps could be heard all over the place.  
At last, this would mean they would soon be found and set free. - Set free to plan their wedding. Somehow this thought made him smile instead of frown. Whyever Hurst had done this, at least he had not locked him in with his sister in law. Though he would not have put it past Miss Bingley to try and lock herself in with him and even go as far as to swallow the key, if only it resulted in her becoming the mistress of his estate.  
"What is going on?" Elizabeth rubbed her eyes as she woke from the increasing noise that sounded up and down the hallways.  
"It seems you are missing and they are looking for you." he calmly answered.  
"And then?" her large soft brown eyes caught his. Oh, those eyes! No, there was no way in the world that he could ever be happy without them.  
"Miss Bennet," Darcy began, hesitating but shortly before picking up the courage to go down on his knee. "Will you do me the great honour and consent to become my wife? I cannot imagine my future without you, though I have battled it for some time. But waking up next to you this morning has shown me, that this is what I want for the rest of my life. Waking up next to you, holding you close, talk to you about everything, have you tease me. If you could only find it within you to try and..."  
The door was pushed open and in stumbled a number of people, Mr Hurst and Mr Bennet among them.  
"What is this supposed to mean?" the latter asked, looking beyond irritated. "What have you done to my daughter?"  
"Father, Mr Darcy has just asked me for my hand in marriage and I have accepted him."  
At this Darcy's face lit up, his heart soared and his hand reached for hers quite of its own accord.  
"No! No this must not be!" Caroline Bingley had also arrived, her face a mask of fury and shock. "He is supposed to be my husband, you hussy, you witch, you little insignificant little country chit, you..."  
"What would your own betrothed say heard he using you such foul language, sister dearest?" Hurst enquired sarcastically. "As a clergyman's wife, you will have to keep your temper in check."  
"Betrothed?" Fitzwilliam Darcy could not help but be surprised. "You are betrothed to a clergyman?"  
His eyes met with those of Mr Bennet, and both seemingly coming to the same conclusion broke out in laughter. It was a surprising sound to hear Mr Darcy laugh so unabashedly and a sweet laugh it was, Elizabeth thought. Warm and unpretentious, his face lighting up with unabashed glee.  
"She is not anywhere downstairs or in the outbuildings," Bingley shouted up the stairs, but at hearing the laughter ascended them as fast as he could, taking two steps at a time.  
"What is going on?"  
"Oh, your sister got engaged last night and so have I," was his friend's wry reply.  
"You proposed?! To Carol...?"  
"I did. - To Miss Elizabeth Bennet."  
"While our sister here, Bingley, is happily engaged to Mr Collins. They had a little tête à tête in the maze outside and have gotten ever so much closer that in the end, they knew they just had to marry. It was love at first sight, who would have thought?"  
"You...!" Caroline snapped.  
"Yes, sister dearest?" George Hurst enquired innocently, while his eyes shimmered with mirth, addressing her with the very words his wife always indulged Caroline with.  
"Bastard!" Miss Bingley retorted, and slapping him about the face took off. What else was she supposed to do as everyone around her seemed to have lost their minds?  
"And now, Hurst, I would like to know what possessed you to lock Elizabeth and myself in here?" Darcy asked, as soon as the livid lady had at last rounded a corner and was out of sight.  
"Your own safety, actually. Last night Caroline tried to compromise you, and Louisa and I crossed her plans. And Mr Collins, in his eagerness to recommend himself, crossed ours admittedly. Caroline threw quite a fit, storming into the house. I followed her, but then thought the better of it and went back downstairs and then I came across Miss Elizabeth and thought it best if I had her out of the way and lure her here. Upon coming back downstairs I saw you, thought it might be better if you would not cross paths with Caroline either, as I would not have put it past her to have another try at compromising you. I first considered putting you dourer another bedroom, but the opportunity was just too good. I have watched the two of you closely during your stay with us, Miss Bennet, and so I thought I might just as well push you in the right direction. It seems to have worked wonderfully."

This was a show and Thomas Bennet enjoyed it immensely. What a study in character! Some proved to be as he had judged them, while others certainly had surprised him. This led him to hope that even after three and twenty years, his wife might still have the capacity to do so. Last night she had made some progress already by speaking about Mr Bingley's fortune only a good dozen times instead of a hundred, and never too loudly. Oddly enough every time she had started to be too loud it had been either Kitty or Lydia reminding her that perhaps she should speak a little bit lower. There, yet another surprise!  
And looking at his second oldest daughter he had to admit she appeared uncommonly happy, and when his eyes darted a bit lower he saw her and Mr Darcy's hands entwined without them even noticing, so natural seemed this gesture.  
‘And so I will lose my little Lizzy.' he thought dolefully before once more the ridiculousness of the situation got the better of him and he could not help chuckling.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 15

"Mr Collins, I congratulate you on your betrothal." Mr Bennet said, as soon as he arrived home along with his daughter.  
"Oh Lizzy, where have you been?" his lady cried out before the confused parson could say anything in response.  
"My dear, I hope you have ordered a good dinner tonight, as we will have an addition to our family circle."  
"How can you talk of dinners when my poor nerves are all in a flutter, Mr Bennet?"  
Pulling her least favourite daughter into a tight embrace Elizabeth realised that still, her mother loved her as dearly as any mother could love one of her children, and that come to that all her family would ward off any evil that might lurk along the way. Even Lydia, sometimes too boisterous and sometimes unkind in her judgement, would never be as vile to any of her sisters as she had realised Miss Bingley was to hers. But Longbourn would not be her home for much longer, soon her home would be in Derbyshire. It was an odd thought, and even more odd was it, that she even looked forward to it. With all her machinations and matchmaking, her mother could use some lessons from Mr Hurst of all people, it seemed.  
"Now, you really need to tell me where you have been, Lizzy. Can you imagine how worried we were, when upon leaving we could not find you? And then Kitty suggested you might have gone home already, and with your ramblings, I would not have put it past you had you really walked three miles in the darkness. Well, at least the moon was out. But then we could not find you here either and your father set out on a search in an instant, lest you might lie in a ditch or have been eaten by wild animals. I have not slept a wink." Mrs Bennet rambled on.  
"It seems, my dear, last night some matchmaking has been going on, as your daughter here is engaged to be married, as is my cousin, Mr Collins."  
"You will marry Mr Collins? Oh, we are all saved! You will be mistress of Longbourn one day, my dear, what a fine prospect!"  
"No, my dear Lizzy will be mistress of Pemberley as she is to marry Mr Darcy, while the lovely Miss Bingley will be married to Mr Collins."  
"Nonsense! How can you tease me so?”  
"Mistress of Pemberley?" Collins piped up, looking concerned. "But Mr Darcy is engaged to his cousin. Lady Catherine de Bourgh's companion herself told me, that Miss Anne is engaged to her cousin and that both mother and daughter are greatly looking forward to the match. The wedding is to be in June next year, just after Miss de Bourgh's twenty-first birthday, when she will also come into possession of Rosings."  
"Oh, never mind." Mr Bennet tried to appease him. "All will be sorted out in good time."

But mind Mr Collins did, in fact, more about his cousin's than his own engagement, and putting his noble patroness' interests before his own he excused himself and went upstairs to write a most urgent letter to Lady Catherine. As the rest of the family finally went to sleep for a few hours he hastened over to Meryton as fast as his plump body and the flat feet of his could carry him.  
Wiping his brow with his handkerchief he stepped out of the post office and onto the street with the feeling of having accomplished something.  
"Ah, the lucky groom." he was addressed by none other than Lieutenant Wickham, who happened to pass by.  
"Lucky? Ha, I am most unlucky!" exclaimed the sweating parson, needing to crane his neck so he could look the other man in the face. "I just hope my noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh can set this mess to right."  
"What is there to dislike about a woman with a large dowry? And a lovely pair of breasts, if I may say so?"  
William Collins blushed most furiously at the thought of what had passed last night, and all that was missing to make him look like an oversized tea kettle was the steam coming out of his ears.  
"It is not about me and my situation, I spoke. My cousin Elizabeth has become engaged to Mr Darcy and I know that my noble patroness..."  
"Lady Catherine de Bourgh, yes, I know." Wickham rolled his eyes.  
"Yes, - that Lady Catherine will be most displeased, seeing that her nephew is engaged to her daughter."  
"Darcy engaged to Miss de Bourgh? That is news to me. Are you quite sure?"  
"Yes, I was told that Miss de Bourgh is engaged to her cousin Fitzwilliam and if I gathered it correctly that is Mr Darcy's first name, is it not?"  
Wickham nodded thoughtfully. He had not seen Lady Catherine in a while, but if she happened to appear on the scene, this certainly would be fun.  
"And now Miss Elizabeth has crossed Lady Catherine's dearest wish. What will she say when she hears about it being one of my relatives that has caused all this trouble? This Mr. Hurst has taken quite some liberties locking Cousin Elizabeth in with Mr Darcy!"  
"What? Has Darcy been compromised after all? Oh dear! I dare say the ball was a complete success then."  
Turning around Wickham wandered off in a particularly good mood. Ah, was it not a lovely day?


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 16

By the early afternoon of the following day, a most enormous carriage arrived at Longbourn, and a most formidable looking lady got out of it, knocking determinedly at the front door with her walking stick.  
"I demand to speak with Miss Elizabeth Bennet!" she demanded as soon as Hill had opened the door and squeezing past the startled housekeeper said lady planted herself firmly in the entrance hall.  
"Lady Catherine!" William Collins exclaimed with some relief, striding towards her with his hands stretched out. "I knew you would come and sort things out. I am not sure how all this could end up in such a mess."  
"Yes - yes, that I can well imagine, Mr Collins," she answered him shortly, shaking her regal head in some irritation. The news she had received had indeed been alarming and there was little doubt that some sorting out needed to be done, and she was more than prepared to do so.  
Lady Catherine de Bourgh was a stately woman, a bit on the stout side perhaps, but her face once must have been quite beautiful and her dark blue eyes were still as sharp as a knife's blade. Her fine mouth, not unlike her nephew's, was set in a straight line and her eyebrows were knitted into a frown.  
"I will get my cousin promptly." Collins bowed and once more gave the impression that he would surely topple over at any moment would he attempt to bend down another half-inch.  
Elizabeth, who had been walking outside with Jane to talk about their upcoming marriages was quite surprised when she was summoned with the utmost urgency, but being curious followed her clerical cousin promptly nonetheless.

"Lady Catherine." she curtsied, feeling slightly intimidated by the unsmiling response of the woman before her.  
"Miss Bennet, I demand a word with you - in privacy. This park is rather small, but I thought I saw a pretty little wilderness over there, just before we have turned into the driveway. If you may follow me, please?"  
This flowery phrase sounded more like an order than anything else and excusing herself to get her bonnet and pelisse, Elizabeth hastened up the stairs somewhat bewildered what this was all about.  
"You can be in no doubt, why I am here." Lady Catherine began, walking along with surprising agility.  
"I presume you have been informed about my engagement to your nephew, Mr Darcy."  
"Indeed I have."  
A short moment of silence followed before the formidable lady spoke again.  
"Miss Bennet, have you any idea of the consequence of my nephew? He is the grandson of an earl and as such he is currently third in line to inherit the title as are his children, should the union of his two male cousins stay without male heirs and should they die before him, of course. Do you really think with your upbringing and meagre education, with no experience in society, you could be the mother of a potential earl? Or be the wife of one, for that matter?"  
"If Mr Darcy thinks so."  
"Ah, but does he? I have had it from Mr Collins, that my nephew was compromised into this engagement. What have you to say to this?"  
"Only that I have been likewise compromised. It was not me who made the attempt." Elizabeth felt her ire rise at the woman's ungracious tone.  
"Do you mean to say that my nephew would have to stoop so low, as to compromise a woman of no consequence whatsoever, to become his wife? Nonsense!" Lady Catherine carried on, undeterred by her companions defiance.  
"I have said no such thing. I merely stated that we were both compromised by a third party, who locked us in together."  
"Would you have considered marrying him otherwise?"  
At this Elizabeth needed to ponder. Would she? Perhaps. Over the last two days, she had seen a side of Mr Darcy which before was tainted by her own hasty prejudice, forming an opinion which had been darkened by one negligently spoken comment of a man in a bad mood and which had not even been towards her. It was not as if she had never done so herself, just that she had been fortunate enough never to be overheard when doing so, or never been so thoroughly misunderstood.  
"I thought so." the lady spoke after she had waited for a few instances without getting a reply. "Of course not. You know your station in life too well I presume, to dare attempt such a thing. Will you then promise me to break the engagement?"  
Elizabeth's annoyance increased: "Why would I promise such a thing to a person so wholly unconnected to me? If Mr Darcy has no objections to marrying me, what is it to you? He told me that he is a free and unattached man. Why may he not choose for himself?"  
"Because he has not done so! He was tricked into this and I, as one of his nearest relations, am concerned for his well being. I cannot stand idly by when I see he is about to be ruined."  
"It can hardly be considered ruin for a gentleman to marry a gentleman's daughter."  
"Yes, you are a gentleman's daughter, but what are your connections? Lawyers and traders they are, as I was informed by your cousin. Do you not think people of the ton will look down on you? Talk about you behind your back?"  
"And what is that to me? Let them!"  
"So you will not promise to release my nephew from this infamous engagement?"  
"No, I will not."  
"You are determined to be mistress of Pemberley then?"  
"No, I am determined to be the wife of Mr Darcy, a very good and honourable man, whom I have come to greatly respect and whose company I truly enjoy," Elizabeth replied, then turned around to walk back and into the house. She had quite enough of this enquiry.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 17

"Not so hasty, Miss Bennet!" Lady Catherine cried out, hurrying after her, and reaching for her arm, which she caught with some strength Elizabeth would not have thought she possessed, asked: "Do you love him then?"  
Surprised Elizabeth Bennet wheeled around to look into the smiling face of the woman who moments before had been so stern and forbidding.  
"You do not need to answer, my dear, I can see you do." Lady Catherine de Bourgh smiled, her eyes shimmering with kindness and glee.  
"But…?"  
"No ‘but', my child. Welcome to the family. All I wanted to do, was save my nephew from a loveless marriage and see how well you could stand up to people who, at least at first, in all likeliness would not treat you well. I am satisfied on both accounts. Most satisfied!"  
Pulling her close, Lady Catherine planted a soft kiss on her forehead.  
This was seen by Mr Collins, who, in some nervous anticipation, had been standing behind the door, eavesdropping.  
"But your daughter?" he cried out. "What will become of her?"  
"What of Anne?" was Lady Catherine's almost bemused reply. "She will be happily married in June next year as planned. Oh and no, I have no intention of poisoning you, Miss Elizabeth. There seems to be a misunderstanding here. My daughter Anne is engaged to her cousin Richard Fitzwilliam, not cousin Fitzwilliam Darcy. Fitzwilliam is mine and my late sister's maiden name and the family name of the Earl's of Matlock. So in reference to that, a rather silly notion actually, my sister called her son Fitzwilliam. It is Richard Fitzwilliam however, my daughter is engaged to. Why on earth would she want to marry Darcy? She is to inherit a great estate and Richard, being the second son of my brother, is in dire need of one. It was quite convenient when they fell in love with one another last spring. It saved me the trouble of making sure she chose a suitable match and would not fall for a mercenary like… - but no, I will not be unkind. After all, he was my late brother in law's godson and you will not know him anyway."  
"But I do know Mr Wickham."  
"Oh well, you are intelligent enough to have figured him out, I am sure."  
"Not at first. It was Mr Darcy who warned me one's him, and I fear I was not very kind in response at first."  
"Yes, Darcy can be a bit abrasive on occasion, I have often told him so. But you would not have been the first and you will not be the last to be blinded by George Wickham. But you came to your senses soon enough, and that alone is some achievement. I know him well and have to say I find him incredibly charming. He always makes me feel young again when he starts flirting with me."  
At that Elizabeth could not help but laugh and it was with some relief that she was joined in her mirth by Lady Catherine herself.  
"But…?" the hapless parson stammered.  
"Oh come now, Mr Collins. You are my vicar already, you do not need to constantly impress me. I have given you a living, meaning I cannot get rid of you again. So there is no need to be always of the same opinion than me. A bit of opposition is quite refreshing from time to time. I am however grateful that you took it upon yourself to send me an express. The first of two last night, as not half an hour later I received another one from my nephew." here her expression changed and she grew concerned. "Is there any way I can help you out of your own troubles, Mr Collins?"  
For a moment the doltish parson looked confused till he remembered his own most unfortunate engagement.  
Shaking his head dolefully he replied: "Your offer is very kind, Lady Catherine, but I fear there is no way out. The lady seemed to have been very determined to catch a husband, and before I knew what happened I was engaged to her. Do you think I should call on her?"  
Shaking her head in bemused sympathy her Ladyship answered: "It might be proper, but I would actually like to have a word with your betrothed beforehand. As you were not her intended target I need to clarify a few things it seems. Would you like to accompany me to Netherfield, Miss Bennet? I am sure my nephew would be all too happy to see you. And my niece is most eager to meet you. Curious creature she is, but so unbelievably shy. Ever since… - but that is for another time to tell, I suppose."

However Elizabeth had Lady Catherine imagined to be, this was certainly not it. The kind and busybody person before her, with her sparkling eyes and witty smile, she never would have taken for Mr Collins' ‘noble patroness'. She had envisioned a much more formidable person, well exactly like the person she had first encountered, but certainly not this quite sweet and caring lady with her shrewd sense of humour.  
So, Mr Darcy's sister was shy? Mr Wickham had told her she was an arrogant and conceited girl who looked down on each and everybody, while Miss Bingley and the Hurst's had attested her to be a very amiable creature, something she had not given any credit. With seeing Mr and Mrs Hurst in a new light though, she was sure she would find Georgiana Darcy exactly the way they and her aunt had described her.  
And indeed, had she not been sixteen, Elizabeth was sure, Miss Darcy would have hidden behind the nearest sofa, only to peek over its backrest once in a while before hiding again. But there she stood, framed by her two cousins on one side and her brother on the other. Miss Anne de Bourgh, was a lean and willowy woman with reddish hair and a very pale complexion which only failed to look sickly because her cheeks wore a healthy blush and a few lasting freckles still lingered on her nose, remnants of her days in the sun during summer, while Richard Fitzwilliam was a tall man with a pleasant if somewhat plain face. He wore a colonel's uniform and looked quite dashing, Lydia would have been very impressed. But alas, he had only eyes for his beloved, and once in a while for the rest of his family.  
Miss Darcy herself was a tall girl, with womanly grace and lovely golden blond hair, but the same dark eyes as her brother's. She was almost as beautiful as Jane as she stood there smiling coyly and yet with honest warmth. Too timid to speak, she still followed the conversation carefully and whenever Elizabeth or Lady Catherine tried to draw her into it, she answered very demurely.  
The invitation to dinner by Mr Bingley, who was somewhat disappointed to not have his betrothed by his side, too, was readily accepted, and only Miss Bingley was absent from the table, having locked herself in her room ever since she had found out about Elizabeth's and Darcy's engagement. It was quite odd, but suddenly Elizabeth felt at ease and quite comfortable sitting here at the table at Netherfield.

"So, it is you I have to thank for this young lady becoming my niece shortly?" Mr Hurst was addressed by Lady Catherine. "I am most grateful. You, nephew, are in desperate need of a wife. You start to turn dour and sarcastic, like me."  
While at that everyone chuckled, Darcy himself blushed slightly as he cast his eyes towards his betrothed.  
"Yes, that was my doing." Hurst readily admitted, still grinning widely. "I hardly ever venture to trouble myself about other people, but had I not acted these two would have needed a long time to figure out they suit each other perfectly. And as you said yourself, he really starts to turn dour. So, instead of wasting your time, Darcy old friend, you can now begin to fill the halls of Pemberley with children's laughter."  
"Hurst, really!" the thus addressed blushed even deeper, and it was quite a sight to see the austere Mr Darcy so flustered.  
"But he is right, Darcy, you know. Sometimes all it needs is a little nudge in the right direction. By the way, where is the young lady whose machinations started all this happiness?" her Ladyship's sarcastic undertone in asking the latter was unmistakable.  
"My sister claimed a headache and is upstairs in her room. If you like I could accompany you to her as soon as we have finished." Louisa Hurst replied, still not really comfortable with what her actions had brought about.  
"If you please. It seems my parson is willing to do his duty, but honestly, as silly as he is he is a good soul, even though he on occasion has to be reminded of his duties to the less fortunate. As a study of character, he is a most interesting specimen who always manages to surprise me."  
"So that is why you have given him the living?" Darcy mused, a knowing grin on his flushed face.  
"Not solely. I lost a bet with the archbishop." his aunt replied dryly.  
George Hurst, who had been about to take a sip of his wine, at hearing this, spilled the red liquid all over the tablecloth so hard was he laughing.  
"Milady, on my word you should come to London. With you, in attendance, even an evening at Almack's would actually be a pleasant thing."  
"I thank you, young man, but I prefer the country. At my age and in my position I am the happiest meddling around where it is least expected." Lady Catherine replied and winking she added: "And for the moment at any rate I am quite busy planning two weddings."  
"Aunt..."  
"Oh, keep quiet Darcy and eat up."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 18

No-one answered to her knock and Louisa Hurst became concerned. What if her sister had done something to harm herself? No, that was not likely. Caroline would never do such a stupid thing. Harm others, yes, but never herself. Impatiently she knocked again and again till she was literally hammering against the door with both her fists.  
"Methinks the lady is absent." Lady Catherine remarked dryly, standing to the side.  
"But she must be there. The door is locked. Where else would she be?" Louisa cried frantically, close to tears.  
Bending down the older woman peeked through the keyhole.  
"The bed is untouched and no-one is in there. Only a battered looking dress in a rather garish bright green is lying on the bed, with what seems to be a letter on top. And at any rate, the door appears to be locked from the outside. The key is not in the lock where it should be."  
"And now?"  
"Footman, could you please break down the door?" Lady Catherine called down the stairs.  
It was done in mere minutes and with some dreadful anticipation Mrs Hurst broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

Sister dearest,  
as I cannot possibly be married to this simple-minded country parson, honourable as he might be, I will leave all my family behind and try and find my happiness elsewhere. I never knew I was such a burden to you and your husband, but why did you never tell me so? Then again, I might not have listened. It seems to be a habit of mine. Perhaps you have said so and I did not pay any attention. Who knows? And now, at any rate, it is too late. We have each grown so tired of one another, so resentful, that for some time it might be better we not meet.  
Do not worry, however, I am taken care of. Perhaps we deserve one another, perhaps not, but as I am in need of a husband lest I am ruined and Mr Wickham, who has as of today resigned from the militia, is in equally desperate need of my 20.000 Pounds I should think we will do quite well together. He is most charming after all and maybe we will be able to establish a little business – perhaps in Cheapside, next to Miss Eliza's uncle's business. Seems an appropriate spot, do you not agree?  
As I am of age we will acquire a special license and marry in town Saturday fortnight. If you would like to attend you are welcome to do so, I shall send you the particulars.  
Send my love to Charles and Miss Bennet and my regards and best wishes to Mr Darcy and Miss Eliza, I wish them all the happiness they deserve.  
Your loving, though often failing sister  
Caroline

With tears streaming down her face Mrs Hurst leaned into her husband.  
"There – there, it looks as if everything will turn out well." Lady Catherine remarked consolatory, having glanced over the lady's shoulder to read the letter likewise.  
"It seems that she has swallowed this bitter pill and is on her way to recovery. She was rather quick with it, I have to say, considering her initial determination. But many women are once they have made up their mind, are they not? Of course, she will have her hands full with George Wickham, but she has landed herself a very charming husband, no two ways about it, and from what I have heard she seems to be the kind of woman well able to handle him. - And vice versa."  
"Amen!" Fitzwilliam Darcy muttered under his breath, but not so quietly that it had not been heard by the woman on his arm, who struggled to suppress a chuckle, whispering into his ear: "But not as charming as my husband will be."  
This remark was more than Fitzwilliam Darcy was able to resist.  
Whispering back he inquired: "So, you think me charming?"  
"Yes, quite charming." Elizabeth smiled. "Ever since I saw you smile and heard you laugh."  
"Good," he mumbled, the word almost lost as he bent his head and to his betrothed's utter shock kissed her on the mouth, all the while pulling her indecently close, ignoring the people around them.  
Never in his life had he done something this daring, but it felt astonishingly good. Especially as Elizabeth, his Elizabeth, kissed him back after her initial surprise.  
At last, they broke apart when they heard someone clear his throat.   
George Hurst grinned at them before remarking: "When I said you can now begin to fill the halls of Pemberley with children's laughter I did not mean for you to start right now and especially not right here, Darcy."  
"Thank goodness the boy has some passion in him. Who would have thought, as stiff as he always is?" Lady Catherine mumbled, ignoring the double entendre of her words while at the same time making her nephew wanting to bury his face in his hands in embarrassment as everyone, safe for Elizabeth who fortunately did not seem to know what was so funny about the lady's remark, burst out laughing.  
Well, no matter, he would kiss her again any time, anywhere anyway - stiff or not.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 19

The coaching inn was busy and not very comfortable, but the food was decent enough and Mr Wickham as company was surprisingly pleasant. Here Caroline Bingley sat in her plainest dress and hair tied into only a simple bun, a few strands escaping it, and still, her heart was surprisingly light. She had not felt this light and carefree in a very long time, if ever.   
For sure, Mr Wickham was a scoundrel, but at least he was a very charming one, other than this Mr Collins. He amused her, and if she took good care she would certainly steer him in the right direction. Her money might be his after their wedding, and once his debts had been paid off there would not be too much left of it, but the idea with the shop increasingly appealed to her somehow, even though it had only been written as an off-hand remark in her letter to Louisa, originally not meant to be taken seriously. But the closer they got to London the more of what would become of them in the future occupied her mind. Society might frown upon her, but so would she on society. Ha!  
Was it not funny how something, that only a few days ago would have sounded atrocious, could grow on one in such a short time? But desperate times needed desperate measures, and if one got to work instead of fret, all the better. Caroline had never been sentimental after all. Her pride had been hurt, but her heart was intact.

It was not Miss Bingley alone who noticed the change in herself, Mr Wickham did, too, and smiling he thought to himself that perhaps for this woman it might even be worth sobering up. If at least once in a while and only a little. She was pretty, intelligent and cunning, yet there was a surprising innocence about her, hidden underneath her cold façade, that was most alluring. When he had first met her he did not notice it, but now there sat a woman whose company he actually enjoyed. Who needed those Hertfordshire country misses when one could have this most intriguing lady? Intriguing in the most literal sense even. Not him.

They arrived in London in the late afternoon and took a room in yet another small inn in Cheapside, far away from the streets she knew so well. But she had been persistent in avoiding the more fashionable part of town as she did not want to meet any of her former acquaintances, who would be friends no longer. No, her life would have to drastically change and the sooner it did, the better it was. There was no use in being sentimental. It would do nothing but give her wrinkles and grey hair.

To her great delight, the very next day as they went for a stroll, mainly because the inn had little to offer to occupy them, Caroline spotted some fine looking empty premises down in Fenchurch Street, and ever so eager to do what she had decided upon she promptly made up her mind to open a little tea parlour there. Something which seemed to be missing in this part of town. All the merchant's wives around would surely be very grateful to them for providing a proper place for gossiping.  
At first Wickham had been shocked to hear about her plans, but soon relented, as he had little choice in the matter. After all, it were his debts that had reduced their means even before their marriage, though he could not quite bring himself to regret any of the actions that had led to the accumulation of them. And so, applying to the owner, Caroline Bingley took the rooms immediately, much like her brother had taken possession of Netherfield not three months ago, moving into the small flat above the business straight away. And a comfortable flat it was and in good time she would make it a home, warm, comfortable and elegant.  
It was something of a challenge to get up in the morning and make her own breakfast and then go downstairs to oversee the work done there and furnish her new establishment, but never in her life had Caroline Bingley gone to bed at night feeling so thoroughly at ease and proud of what she had achieved in the day. Perhaps this had always been her true destiny. While she worked ceaselessly, Wickham was occupied with charming the local ladies into their business, and by the beginning of their second week they were able to serve their first customers, two surprisingly fashionable ladies, one of them being Mrs Gardiner, wife of Mr, Gardiner owner of ‘Trollope and Gardiner'. Now was that not a coincidence? Perhaps, if she was smart enough, she might make something out of the connection. One never knew. Maybe a little investment some time in the future? She just needed to be careful that Wickham did not get wind of it and spend all the potential royalties well in advance. No, sneaking some money past him would probably be a good plan. Just in case.

Eventually, her wedding day came, surprisingly fast even, as Caroline had been so busy she had hardly realised how quickly the time had passed. And suddenly her brother and sister arrived to attend the ceremony. The austere Miss Bingley was quite touched to see her siblings, though Mrs Hurst looked rather wary, unsure of how she would be welcomed, while Charles, as was his nature, was more relaxed, if perhaps a bit baffled as he entered their small tea parlour to find a beaming bride and a fairly nervous looking groom. It was clearly not what either of them had expected. But there they were in their best dresses ready to speak their vows. With her brother acting as best man this was soon done and setting off towards their rented rooms above the little shop it was a plain but merry party.  
"You know Louisa, you are right, I would never have been this happy had my plan worked out. I would have known Mr Darcy had not chosen me and he would never have loved me. With my George at least I know we are dependent on one another, and he does seem to cherish me, do you not?" raising a teasing eyebrow Mrs Wickham turned towards her new husband who smiled contently.  
"Indeed, this outcome could not have been more wonderful had it been written in a novel," he replied gallantly. "But alas, this is the first time I feel as if I have been dealt a particularly good set of cards. And indeed, you Caroline, have been the first woman I have not lied to, ever. You knew exactly who and what I was and still, here you are, accepting me just the way I am. If I knew I could keep my word, at this moment I would pledge to never gamble again, but instead, I beg you to always keep me occupied enough to never have the chance to do so any more. Or only on occasion."  
"Well, that is a promise I will easily keep, my dear." replied his lady dryly, but not without affection. "You can start right away by clearing the table."  
"You will not have me work in that tea parlour of yours after all, will you?" he cried out in alarm, which had the rest of the party chuckle.  
"Oh, I most certainly will." his Caroline answered with her usual determination. "With your charms, the ladies will flock in by the dozens. They already do, if I may say so. We might be well off, but even four thousand Pounds will not last us forever, not with our habits anyway. Let us see what we can do. Invest a bit in our business and perhaps extend and see where this gets us. Here is as good as any place, and I quite like the idea of being on the same social level than my customers. At least then they will not look down on me. Better of consequence in Cheapside than of no consequence in Grosvenor Street."  
‘And aside I will not run into any of my old acquaintances', Caroline added in her mind. Not that she would be much bothered by it, but the ton was a part of her life she preferred to leave behind. It had done nothing good for her in retrospect, she now knew that. It had made her vile and deceitful, had given her an unbecoming air and had poisoned her mind. No, this was a much better place.  
"You sound like an old tradesman already, Caroline." Louisa Hurst remarked, but with an undertone of unmistakable pride and affection.  
"I am the daughter of one, and I should have remembered that much sooner, Louisa."  
"Well, I say Amen to that!" her brother exclaimed. "And do you know what? Jane's aunt and uncle live just around the corner."  
"Yes, I did know. That is why I chose to come here. My caustic remark about Jane's relatives had me thinking of Cheapside. So, the two of you will have no excuse for not visiting me. By the way, Mr Gardiner also lives around here, and his wife is such a charming and gentle creature, I absolutely adore her. She reminds me a little bit of Jane."  
"You know Jane will always be glad to visit you. She is such a dear! And I, of course, will be just as glad. You might also be interested in hearing, that Mr Edward Gardiner is the very uncle Jane had told you about."  
Caroline was surprised. Well, if that was the case even the better.

It was not however, that Caroline Wickham had changed all that much, or was any less determined than she had been before, but with channelling her determination in another direction than finding a rich and high ranking husband, this turned into quite a delightful, and most useful feature. The energy she worked with, and the glee she felt over it, were most becoming and neither of her siblings would ever again hear a spiteful word from her. This she had promised to herself and she had begun with the letter she had written to her sister. Having started several times over, reproaching Louisa for what she had done in crossing her plans, her ire had faded eventually and at last, she had written an epistle not only devoid of any accusation, but also of heartfelt affection and forgiveness.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 20

Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs Bennet got rid of her three most deserving daughters.  
Jane and Elizabeth were most happy as was Mary, though on a quieter level. Lady Catherine, on meeting her, had steered Mr Collins, who had been more relieved than shocked at his initial betrothed's elopement, in the right direction, and she was certain that over time the young Mrs Collins would take her place in reminding her husband to not neglect his duties to those less fortunate than himself. Something she had soon grown quite tired of. No, that man very decidedly needed a wife and a sensible one. Well, as sensible at least as a woman marrying Mr Collins could be.

Over the last few weeks it had gotten sufficiently colder and on the morning of the wedding, an almost magical bout of white frost covered the grounds and trees around Longbourn, glistening in the cold sunlight of early winter.  
The whole of the house was, as was to be expected, in an uproar as Mrs Bennet rushed from one room to the other overseeing her three eldest daughters getting dressed. It had been much to her dismay that neither of them had taken her advice on their apparel and all had insisted on much plainer gowns than she would have deemed proper for such an event. Yet, she was far too pleased in general to even claim her poor nerves were failing her. No, Mrs Bennet was as happy as she possibly could be, with two of her daughters still unmarried.  
Mary, never one to take much care over her appearance, was down first, sitting down demurely in their breakfast parlour reading a book and waiting till it was time to leave for church. However, she had still managed to do something with her hair, which fell much softer around her angular and irregular appearing face, and her new rose coloured dress, a colour which she previously had proclaimed unsuitable for her, brought out the slight blush on her cheeks and complemented her dull grey eyes and dull-coloured hair in an almost charming way. Mary Bennet, soon Mrs William Collins, looked as pretty as could possibly be.  
Jane, the second one down, was, of course, a much more stunning sight with her golden blond hair and her flawless complexion, her sparkling blue eyes, and her graceful figure, all clad in a light blue silk gown embroidered with the most delicate of flowers here and there. Still, with her always looking regal and angelic, this was not much of a surprise.  
Elizabeth was down last as, much to her dismay, she had been fretted over the most. But as her groom was the most consequential of the three men, her mother had deemed it necessary to remind her of her new station in life, and that with it she had an obligation to look particularly beautiful. Once Mrs Bennet was out of the room Elizabeth had convinced the maid to undo her gaudy hairstyle and start afresh with something more to the bride's own taste.  
"With a dress as plain and unadorned as yours, Lizzy, you cannot be too extravagant with your hair." her mother had said and the result had been an abominable mixture of braids, curls, ribbons, flowers and bows, till her daughter's coiffure appeared like some kind of foreign Christmas decoration. Had she not been so nervous Elizabeth would have laughed at seeing herself in the mirror. At long last though, Elizabeth had been satisfied with how she looked, and trying to avoid being caught by Mrs Bennet on her way downstairs lest she would be dragged back into her room and still end up being stuck with a hairstyle so elaborate it would surpass the likes of Marie Antoinette, she sneaked into the parlour where the other two brides were by now nervously pacing up and down in front of the window.  
The small procession left for church so shortly after the second oldest bride had made her appearance that thus there was little Mrs. Bennet could do to change her daughter's pretty but plain hairstyle.

As was to be expected the tiny village church was packed with people. There were the Fitzwilliams', the de Bourghs, the Hursts along with the Bennets and Gardiners, as well as several close friends from around the neighbourhood, all in their Sunday finest. Even Mrs and Mr Wickham were present, having been gracefully invited by Jane and Bingley and skilfully entreated by Mrs Hurst.  
Caroline Wickham, never one to back down once she had made up her mind, sat there, a languid smile on her face, next to her husband who as always bore a most charming expression, currently flirting with Maria Lucas. Elizabeth was most astonished that, as she was walking down the aisle, Mrs Wickham's smile grew broader and perhaps a tad more insincere, her eyebrow raised challengingly, making Elizabeth wonder what the woman was up to now. She was not the only one to see it, however, as Lady Catherine had just then turned around to observe what was going on around her, being her ever busy and meddling self.  
The ceremony was nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the fact that three couples were married all at once, and went by without a disturbance. Without hesitation each of the six people involved  
answered with a resolute: ‘I do!' And not an hour later, and under great cheer, left the ecclesiastic building happily wed.

Caroline Wickham had just stepped outside when she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder, and upon turning around looked into the sparkling eyes of an elderly lady she had never seen before.  
"Mrs Wickham, I presume?" the woman inquired, and Caroline could not help but think that there was something sly about this shrewd and somewhat eccentric woman before her. She certainly had a very individual approach to fashion, yet her garments were exquisite.  
"I am. With whom do I have the pleasure?" was Mrs Wickham's more curious than polite reply.  
"Ah, so you are the young lady who has brought all this about. I am not quite sure whether I should thank or scold you. But seeing that my nephew is usually quite hopeless in matters of the heart, I dare say the former would be more appropriate." the lady stated matter of factly, without answering Caroline's question as to her person.  
"Whatever do you mean?"  
"Exactly what I have just said. I thank you for having been such a selfish and ruthless young lady that you have managed to, with the help of your most delightful sister and her husband, entrap one Fitzwilliam Darcy in wedlock at last. It was about time, I tell you. He was becoming dourer by the day." Lady Catherine smiled wryly. "And to such a charming, vivacious young lady no less. Well done!"  
"But..."  
"Oh never mind, I know you did so quite accidentally, but between us, had it not been for your foul and impertinent scheming, he would have needed much longer. And he really should not. Eight and twenty and no woman to share his bed with… - No wonder he always used to be such a miserable sod. Well, hopefully that will change now."  
Hearing this, Mrs Wickham could not help blushing and for many different reasons. First there was incredulity of being spoken to thus, then there was the remembrance of her own wedding night, which had been fairly disappointing, to say the least, and then there was the somewhat awkward remembrance of her horrible attempt at compromising Mr Darcy, who seemed to be this lady's nephew. As her eyes accidentally fell on Mr Collins she blushed even further, memories of his hands on her breasts entered her mind unbidden.   
"I still fail to understand..." Caroline at last stammered.  
"Oh, that I doubt. Mr Wickham certainly would have claimed his rights by now, he is always quick with that. I hope he has lived up to his reputation?"  
"Excuse me!" Caroline exclaimed on the verge of losing her temper. There was something about this stout woman and her inquisitive eyes which made her quite irate.  
Lady Catherine de Bourgh shook her head thoughtfully: "I never thought he would be this bad. Really, considering he has had a decided problem of keeping on his breeches when someone of the opposite sex happened to be around, I would have thought he is practised enough to actually accommodate his wife. Seems I have been wrong."  
"I never said..."  
"There is no reason to, deary. The expression on your face tells me everything. He is charming though and not at all bad to look at. One really would not mind having him hung up in one's parlour just to stare at him."  
Neither of this Caroline could justly deny.  
"You know what, Mrs Wickham? I think it is time for some sound advice from me. I will have to speak to the brides anyway, as I somehow doubt their mother will do an appropriate job, so why do you not simply join us?"  
And before the younger lady could reply, the older one was gone with an agility that belied her age and figure.  
Flustered Caroline Wickham went in search of her husband, who was, no surprise there, now talking and flirting with a whole bunch of ladies of various ages, while he stayed suspiciously clear of the Darcys. How odd, considering that back in London he had claimed a close acquaintance with them. And what had the lady meant with ‘he had a problem with keeping on his breeches'?

As Longbourn was too small an estate to hold all the wedding guests in a comfortable manner, the wedding breakfast had been set up at Netherfield and all the way, being crammed into a hack chaise with Mrs Long and her nieces, Caroline Wickham thought about it.  
Some time during the second course Lady Catherine approached her once again and, not wanting to cause a stir, Caroline begrudgingly followed her into her brother's library.  
"I am so sorry to interrupt this most pleasant feast, but I dearly wish to speak to you all," she said smiling as she closed the heavy doors behind her.  
Three puzzled faces looked at them as all the young brides sat on a sofa by the fire.  
"I wish to speak to you, about what to expect on ones wedding night. - No, there is no reason to blush at all. There is a lot of bliss to be had in the marriage bed, and a disappointing experience can be somewhat unsavoury, can it not, Mrs Wickham?"  
Caroline really should have known better than to trust Lady Catherine, whose name she had, at last, learned from Louisa, who had been sitting across from her during the meal. Clenching her fists angrily she would have walked straight out of the room had the lady not stood firmly in her way, solidly leaning against the doors.  
"Oh, I am sure you would not want to miss such sound advice, Mrs Wickham. After all, you have to take matters into your own hands, quite literally, lest you will end up a complete nuisance to everyone around you. - Then again..." Lady Catherine trailed off in a manner which left little doubt of what she had intended to say.  
Elizabeth Darcy followed the conversation with the utmost amusement. She was nervous after the conversation she had had with her mother, looking forward to some more sensible advice and still, this was a most entertaining spectacle.  
"Anyway, in all likeliness, your new husbands will claim their rights and make you their wives once and for all tonight. Let me tell you this however, no man wants an unresponsive sack of potatoes in his bed, no matter what you have been told. They also rather have you thinking of them instead of England. Then there is one part of a man in particular you should praise well and often. - And I do not mean his wallet."  
Here the three young brides chuckled nervously, while Mrs Wickham thought to herself that there was hardly anything in her husband's wallet she could possibly praise. And thinking about it, the one thing she could praise about him was his ceaseless flirting with her mainly female customers. There he was without a doubt, the most adept and zealous.  
"I presume you mean their... – well, what makes them a man?" Elizabeth carefully worded, blushing furiously.  
"Of course that is what I mean, my dear. It is, by the way, not the size which matters, but the way they use it to their and their wife's advantage." her Ladyship now winked.  
"Is it very large?" Mary whispered almost soundlessly. She seemed the most terrified of the sisters, which with the clumsy Mr Collins was perhaps not much of a surprise.  
"It depends on your point of view, I would say. But you might perceive it so. Mrs Wickham?"  
Caroline cast the lady an angry glare, unsure of what to answer. It was not as if she had ever seen anything to be able to make a valid comparison. At last, she only nodded.  
"I am most concerned about the pain. Is it really such a painful matter as our mother has made it out to be?" Jane inquired calmly, though her face was most vividly flushed, just like her other sisters.  
On this Lady Catherine seemed to ponder for a moment.  
"That is what your mother has told you?" she asked incredulously after a while.  
All three brides nodded in unison.  
"Well, what can I say to this? It is not comfortable the first time around, but the more you fear it the more your mother's prediction will come true. What was your experience, Mrs Wickham? Will you not share your superior knowledge?"  
The thus spoken to lady glanced from one expectant face to the other before, with another glare at the lot of them, left the library as fast as she could without looking too undignified.

The Wickhams were just about to leave, and Caroline had been about to congratulate herself on having gotten rid of this crazy old bat for good, when for the third time that day she found herself face to face with Lady Catherine, standing firmly in their way as they crossed the frosty gravel of the driveway to get to Meryton where they occupied a tiny room at the inn.  
"You left so quickly earlier on, you failed to hear my advice I fear. What a shame! It would have come in handy I dare say. But you know, with a man like yours there is only one way to deal anyhow." Catherine de Bourgh told her with a sly smile on her lips, completely ignoring the uncomfortable looking man, who was well aware that what she was about to say was embarrassing at best. "You will have to tie him down and then have your way with him. Best work him first before you make use of him. After all, bit of handiwork never goes amiss. It takes longer the second time around. I presume you get my meaning?"  
At this Caroline Wickham could not help smirking, despite herself. Oh yes, she would like that for sure, and she got every bit of her Ladyship's meaning. Glancing at her husband she saw that he seemed thoroughly taken aback, not knowing where to look. A first, his wife thought, as he usually seemed on the delivering instead of the receiving end.  
Lady Catherine de Bourgh, however, did not leave it at that as, on turning around to walk back inside, she mumbled with a shake of her head: "You, George Wickham, have always been afraid of work and never put much of an effort into anything. But really, even in this? Dear, dear..."


	22. Chapter 22

Epilogue

Now at last Lady Catherine de Bourgh could plan her own daughter's wedding and upon moving into the newly erected dowager's house at Rosings, close to the main road where she could sit comfortably at her window and observe the people passing by, she had nothing more to wish for than a house full of grandchildren and the occasional visit from Mr and Mrs Darcy.  
With some delight, she observed that, when Miss Anne de Bourgh became Mrs Fitzwilliam, all three of the brides who had married six months ago were expecting. Oh, what advice she would be able to give all of them!

Mrs Hurst and Mrs Wickham were completely reconciled soon, and even Mr Hurst had to admit that his sister in law was, after all, not so wholly bad once she had steered her energy in another direction than catching a rich husband. With Wickham he once in a while played at cards, but never to an extent that it would ruin either of them.  
One evening, as the Hurst's sat in their elegant sitting room in the fashionable part of town, the lady remarked to her husband that after all, a bit of intrigue seemed to be fairly harmless. At this, her spouse startled and cautiously and with a wary expression warned her, that only in a book of romance this would always be so, but never in life.  
"Oh, but I only want to intrigue you, George," she replied smiling. "You know, my dear, I believe in all our marriage I have never told you that I love you. But you must know, that I do, and very much so."  
That night, the unruly Mr Hurst turned into a romantic and the result was quite charming in more than one sense of meaning as it lay there in its cradle some nine months later.

And as for the Wickhams, we already know they are doing well. How else could it be with the lady's determination and her husband's charms? And it is needless to say, that Lady Catherine's advice turned out to be a most precious one and was followed most zealously.

The end.


End file.
